


Of Angels and Umbrellas

by GraceHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angel/Human Relationships, Big Brother Mycroft, F/M, First Dates, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Hurt/Comfort, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Mycroft IS the British Government, Mycroft Whump, Mycroft-centric, Naomi Has Feelings too, Naomi Lives, Naomi is queen, No Smut, Pre-Series, Protective Mycroft, Rare Pairings, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 38,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceHolmes/pseuds/GraceHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes is not a sentimental, social, nor spiritual man. However an unlikely, secretive and impossible visitor may turn things around, after he strikes an odd bargain to save the life of his dying brother. Follows the interactions between Heaven's Queen and the British Government. Slow build relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Angie (redonpointe) for help, inspiration, encouragement, and just overall fantasticness where this story is concerned.
> 
> Pay attention to the dates at the top of each chapter, should help with the timeline. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_7 June 2013, Eleven Seventeen PM._

"I don't think she's coming, sir." A woman, who'd chosen and kept the name Anthea, stood in the doorway of a sitting room at a large estate home. The dedicated PA had her usual phone in hand, but was studying her boss seated in his chair.

Mycroft Holmes, owner of said estate, did not give an immediate verbal response. His hands were folded in his lap and he turned his head slightly to meet Anthea's eyes, noting and then dismissing the slight concern in them. He cleared his throat. "Thank you. You may go home now." Pause. "Please cancel or reschedule my appointments for tomorrow."

"I will, sir." Anthea turned to leave, but paused. "Oh, Sherlock sent an email. Said he's in America, Chicago specifically. He needed a flight to Los Angeles in the morning. I took care of it already."

"Thank you, again." Mycroft said impassively, this thoughts briefly straying to his little brother still working on dismantling Moriarty's vast network. He was so close to being done, being out of danger. Their mother had been asking questions again.

"Good night, sir." Anthea gave him one more look and then left the room, bound for home.

Mycroft sat in still silence. Hearing nothing, seeing nothing, effectively tuning out the silent world around him, just lost in thought. She _never_ missed their appointments, after almost nine years she had never missed. Last month she'd mentioned they were having difficulties with one of her brothers. That something was bound to happen, and not for the better. She'd been stressed, worried, scared.…

_"I don't know what to do." She said. "There's too much at stake. The other don't know," pause, "but I am scared. Mycroft, I am absolutely terrified he's going to do something. I can almost feel it."_

_"Is there anything else you can do? Preparations to make?" He said, reaching across the short distance between them to take her hand, holding it tightly. "I'm here, whatever happens."_

_"I know. Thank you."_

And then several weeks ago there had been reports of lights falling from the sky, mostly over America, but it had happened all over the world as well. Unexplainable lights, they'd called it a 'Global Meteor Shower'. Quite the uproar with very little explanation.

But apparently the explanation was something he feared it might be. Something had happened to the Heaven he barely believed in, and only after she'd brought it to light in his life. He had held onto a hope that she'd escaped, that she'd survived and would turn up as was the monthly ritual. And he had no way of contacting her aside from a prayer.

A prayer that left him with no answer.

Taking a deep calming breath, Mycroft shifted slightly in his chair, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Simply to prevent staring at the empty chair in front of him.

His mind would not silence, and their was a tightness in his chest, a catch in his throat. Sentiment getting the better of him, as uncomfortable as it was, he could not stop it, could not compartmentalize. Her absence and the compounding evidence lead him to the likeliest conclusion.

His angel was dead.


	2. 7 November 2004

_7 November 2004. Five Thirty-Two PM._

William Sherlock Scott Holmes was dying. He'd been found by a homeless woman in a dirty alley behind some Italian restaurant in London, unconscious and barely alive. Accidental drug overdose. No surprise, considering.

Mycroft Timothy Holmes sat at his bedside in the Intensive Care Unit of one of London's finest hospitals. One hand gripped the armrest of his chair too tightly, the other fidgeting with his umbrella handle. Just staring. Staring at his too still little brother. His too brilliant and misunderstood little brother, who hadn't been able to calm his mind, turning to drugs instead. It broke his heart. But there would be no admitting that, no matter how much it hurt. Sherlock was dying whether a heart broke or not. The doctors hadn't given him a good prognosis. And even if he did recover, there was still withdraws, potential health issues, and rehab. But Mycroft would see his little brother through this. Pick him up off the pavement, carry him over the finish line if he had to.

Anything to avoid seeing his baby brother in a casket.

Mycroft had business, as usual, but his mobile phone had been silent for the hour he had been sitting there. He sent a mental thank you to his PA, who must have been taking all of those calls herself. She really needed a raise. Maybe he'd let her take Christmas off this year.

Anyone who looked at him at this moment would not know what was going on inside his head or the pain he was feeling, his mask of composure was too practiced for the average goldfish to read.

But the tall woman who walked into the room was not the average goldfish, nor one of the medical staff that had been in and out. Black heels clicked mutely on the room's linoleum, she wore a grey business suit and white dress shirt, her auburn hair pulled back into a professional bun. And as Mycroft looked up at her, very few deductions came to mind. No matter how hard he tried, there was little to be gleaned. He unintentionally squinted his eyes and frowned slightly, looking her up and down quickly. "Can I help you?"

"Hello Mycroft. My name is Naomi, and I'm here to help you." She stopped near the foot of Sherlock's bed, and clasped her hands together in front of her, sharp blue eyes trained on him.

"Help me?" Mycroft straightened in his seat, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor and the whoosh of the ventilator keeping his brother alive.

"Your brother will be dead by the end of the week." Naomi said, with almost casual indifference. "I am willing to change that, if you do something in return for me."

"And how do you expect to change that?" Mycroft scoffed, smiling politely. Something was not right about this, and it mocked his slowly breaking heart. He wanted to be alone, not toyed with. "Please get out."

"I am an angel." Naomi said, tilting her head slightly and giving him another polite smile.

"An angel." He repeated dubiously. "I'm sure. Like I said, please get out."

She smiled knowingly. "There _are_ things in this world that you do not know. A man of your status? You must be familiar with monsters, the _supernatural_. Just because angels have been absent from your radar hardly makes them nonexistent."

"Prove it."

The next moment was a quiet stare-off, until an impossible white light began to fill the room, radiating from her and touching every dark corner as it grew. Shadows of expansive wings stretching out in the open appeared on the wall behind her, even as her blue eyes began to glow with bright white-gold light. Mycroft couldn't look away, his eyes completely fixed on her, the impossible light, and the wings. She held the moment, and when all was back to normal, Naomi, Angel of the Lord, wore a very confident smile. "Satisfied?"

Mycroft blinked once, sorting through the information quickly and moving on. "Okay. I believe you. Next agenda. Why do you want to heal my brother, and what could you possibly want from me?"

"Your brother is very important, and destined for great things. His life in the coming future will impact many." Naomi said, her gaze drifting to the unconscious man in the bed. "But that aside, there is something else I want from you to settle this little agreement."

"And that would be?" Mycroft tapped his umbrella briefly on the floor, his eyes narrowing slightly as he waited.

"A few hours of your time. Once a month, for as long as you hold my interest." Naomi said, again almost completely indifferently.

"What would we be doing 'once a month'?" He frowned slightly, considering her words.

"Simply engaging in discussion and conversation, and enduring the pleasure of each other's company. Your brother is not the only one who is important, and an interest of ours."

Mycroft's brow creased as his frown deepened. "Just discussion and conversation?"

"For your brother's life, yes. I ask nothing more. I have no need of your soul or any promises of that nature, I am not a demon."

There was a slight hesitation, despite the answer rebounding in his head the moment she had posed the deal. "Agreed." He bowed his head once as a nod.

Naomi smiled yet again, tilting her head as she studied him. "One month from today, I will come to see you at four o'clock in the afternoon. Please keep your schedule open."

"Tea and scones?" Mycroft asked, wearing an almost mocking smile.

"If you like." She said, raising a thin brow. "And I'm ignoring that for the moment. You will learn."

Naomi proceeded to walk to the other side of Sherlock's bed. A hand went out, and she put two fingers on the pale forehead of the junkie little brother. It took less than a second, and she pulled her hand away. "I will see you again, Mycroft Holmes."

Mycroft blinked and opened his mouth to ask a question, but by the time he opened his eyes, she had vanished into thin air. Closing his mouth again, he simply reached out and grasped his brother's hand. Sherlock was still intubated and sedated, so there was no telling at that moment if it had actually worked. But despite the oddity of the situation, Mycroft knew Sherlock would survive this.

In the coming hours, he'd receive the necessary evidence to confirm that the angel had been truthful. Blood work was done, various doctors were consulted, nurses flitted in and out, and a conversation was had with Sherlock's main doctor. The doctor called it impossible, a miracle, if you believe in that sort of thing. Sherlock was going to live, all brain function would be normal, no damage to his internal organs, and no signs of physical withdrawal.

Three hours after Naomi's visit, Sherlock was taken off the ventilator and brought out of sedation. He was confused, angry, embarrassed, and frustrated, all those emotions readable on his thin face. But he was alive, and the elder brother would never admit how relieved he was at that impossible fact. Three and a half hours after Naomi's visit, Mycroft departed, leaving Sherlock to their mother's lecture and their father's fussing. He walked out of the hospital, swinging the umbrella around as he headed for his chauffeured car. His thoughts bounced around his head, from the angel's visit, to his brother's awakening, to the visits to come. Should be interesting, to say the least.


	3. 7 December 2004

_7 December 2004, Three Fifty-Five PM_

Exactly one month later Mycroft Holmes had a nearly open schedule. Aside from a morning meeting with the Prime Minister, of course, but his afternoon was clear as requested. He was currently home, standing in his kitchen wearing his usual three piece suit (in grey today) and Italian leather shoes, readying the tea. His housekeeper had gotten the tea tray ready for him, but he had sent her home early. Making tea was nearly second nature now, and he wasn't sure he wanted someone else in the house when his unusual guest came to visit.

As the kettle heated up, he snuck a peek out the window. Another cloudy winter day in England. Sherlock was on a path to recovery. A contact of a contact had spoken highly of one Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, and Mycroft had made certain that Sherlock would be put in the path of the homicide detective. His little brother was currently working on his very first case with New Scotland Yard. And although a few of the members of the homicide division found Sherlock Holmes to be insufferable, it appears it was just the thing he had needed. The thought almost made Mycroft smile. Almost. The whistle of the kettle drew him out of his head and he finished his preparations.

Holding the tea tray in his hands he walked confidently into his front sitting room. It was one of his favorite rooms of his home, not that he'd ever admit to something as sentimental as that. Large windows took up two of the walls, leaving him a nice view of his gardens that surrounded his estate. The rest of the room had dark wood paneled walls, and several expensive rugs covered the hard wood floor. He made his way over towards his usual chair, sitting alone near the window.

After placing the tray on the small coffee table next to it, he furrowed his brow. A quick decision had him pushing another chair over, positioning it a comfortable distance away and facing his. That would do. Hands went in his trouser pockets as he stared at the space, but he had barely a second before the unusual sound of fluttering met his ears again.

"Hello Mycroft." Naomi said. She stood in the open space just inside the open double doors, hands clasped in front of her, expression neutral, and otherwise looking exactly as she had one month previous.

"Naomi, hello." Mycroft straightened himself to his full height and taking his hands out of his trouser pockets. He stole a brief glance at his pocket watch, right on time. He gestured to the chair he had moved over and smiled politely. "Care to sit?"

"Yes. Thank you." Naomi said, her tone aloof but polite. Gracefully moving over, she sat down in the chair and crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap.

Mycroft followed his guest with his eyes, and then moved in to sit himself, unbuttoning his suit coat as he settled in the chair. After passing her the cup of tea he'd prepared, he spent several seconds studying her again, from her face to her chosen outfit. She just stared back, showing no signs of the usual awkwardness or uncertainty that people got when Mycroft Holmes studied them. Her blue eyes were piercing, and unreadable. It almost made _him_ uncomfortable. Almost.

Eventually he spoke. "So, I assume you have a plan for these little meetings you will subjecting me to?"

"Of course." Naomi replied immediately, still holding the tea cup in her hand. "This one will be more of an introduction, but I'd like to start discussion eventually. World events, answering questions, sharing wisdom, controversial topics, things like that. Some humans are worth speaking to, and I've chosen you."

"Chosen me for what?" He asked, taking a sip of his tea and eyeing her over the rim of the cup.

"To study." Naomi said simply.

"Study?"

"As I said before, you are an interest of mine, and Heaven's. A uniquely wise individual, and quite different from all the other people piddling about this planet. Your influence is wide-spread, and your knowledge is great." Her tone was businesslike, lacking very little emotion. "I saw an opportunity and I am taking it."

Mycroft sat up just a bit, barely noticeable, his mind attempting to comprehend the compliment, if that what it was meant to be. He memorized it, and filed it away for later consideration. On to business. "Alright, I suppose that explains why you're here. So I can assume you know about me…and what I do."

"To an extent yes. I don't watch your actions on a day to day basis, but I am familiar with your position in your government." Naomi replied lightly. "From what I've observed, it's unique, well-deserved, and important."

Another compliment. Despite the very fact-like way she presented the words, Mycroft wasn't sure how to take it. It was…new. He brushed it off, giving her a polite smile. "Yes, I suppose it is. Someone has to watch the world turn. Democracy only works if there's a foundation to hold it together. To ensure that governments perform as needed as much as possible, a central place for all information to be channeled."

"And your human government…" The discussions went on for quite some time, mostly concentrating on his chosen field. Which was something he rarely, if ever, talked about with anyone aside from those closest to him. Naomi seemed to know nearly everything though, and for some reason, he had very little qualms about discussing it with her. She remained attentive, curious, and let the conversation progress through questions and answers. He, obviously, had questions about her. Too many to count, but by the time the conversation was winding down, she smiled politely. "I believe this is where I take my leave. Our hour is up, and I have things to do."

"Oh." Mycroft said, straightening in his chair. "You did mention this would be a monthly thing, did you not?"

"Yes, a month from today I will come again. Same time."

"Perhaps we can delve a bit into your…well, you. In general. You seem to know a considerable amount about me. I'm at a disadvantage."

"You are, aren't you? Perhaps we will." Naomi gave him an enigmatic smile, her expression otherwise too difficult to read. "Good night, Mycroft." And a second later she had vanished.

Mycroft pursed his lips after she disappeared, staring at the now empty chair. It was all a bit odd, but his brain was nothing if not able to adapt to new scenarios. And an angel coming for tea was included in anyone's idea of a new scenarios. Quietly standing, he moved to clean up the tea tray, retreat to his office to think, and get back to work.


	4. 7 January 2005

**_7 January 2005, Four Oh Two PM_ **

"Thank you." Naomi said, taking the tea cup offered and settling back in the chair she'd occupied last time.

Mycroft sat across from her, just like last time, ready to commence the conversation as if a month hadn't passed. It'd been a busy month, what with keeping track of his brother and the current world state of affairs. The riots in….well never mind that. Sherlock's twenty-eighth birthday was yesterday, and Mycroft couldn't be more grateful that he'd got a chance to see it. Even if the only communication that day was the usual text message or email.

He gave her a polite smile and took a sip of his own tea again. His eyes swept over her, nothing of her appearance had changed, but that was easy to get used to. The inability to read her was a bit annoying. He'd move past it. He cleared his thoughts after staring at her for a bit longer than was social acceptable, although he was quite sure angels did not follow the same protocols as humans did. "Now normally the first question people ask in these moments is: how are you? Seems a bit bland for my taste, so the question I will ask is: what will be speaking about today?"

"You stated last time that you wished to discuss me. And what I do. We can begin that conversation, if you'd like." Naomi replied.

"Yes, I would." Mycroft confirmed. He paused a second, deciding how to begin this. "So, from what I've gathered. You are an angel. Your attire and demeanor are professional, certainly not the stereotypical appearance of an angel. But obviously I know no other angels to compare you to, so that leaves me with mere guesses. You saved my brother, for none other than the vague reason of 'he is important'. Again, no other divine intent to compare it to. I suppose I am at a disadvantage here, as I've said before."

Naomi smiled as he spoke, bringing the tea cup to her lips to take a quick sip before she replied. "I am head of Heaven's Intelligence Division, a very powerful individual with many connections and influences. However, I am foremost a warrior, and I protect Heaven at any cost and by any means necessary."

"Any means necessary." Mycroft repeated thoughtfully. "I am familiar with that concept. It's not an easy position to be in."

"At times, it's difficult. But it is my duty. I have my orders, loosely on occasion, and I fulfill them as I see fit. One can compare Heaven to a machine. One that only works properly if all the pieces are exactly as they should be. It's my job to make sure that happens."

"And these pieces are?"

"Angels." She replied easily. "Some have a tendency to stray…I fix that. We have a mission, protecting Heaven and ruling the Earth. The problem is evident when they forget that, one cannot have loose cannons in Heaven, it is dangerous."

"Ah." Was all he said in response to that. Bits of information running through his mind, trying to decide whether or not whatever she was claiming was a good thing or not.

"I am not going to harm you." Naomi said, as if reading his thoughts. Or it could be a common thing she needed to say whilst interacted with humans. He wasn't sure.

His indifferent expression didn't change, but he nodded his acknowledgement. "I assumed as much, as you've had plenty of opportunity, and I could do little to prevent you if so."

"You're right." Naomi said, bringing the tea cup to slip again.

"But you haven't." Mycroft repeated again. "Because you're interested in me. But even interest and intrigue like this can be dangerous, if not kept in check. If you have enemies, or your interest is….over zealous."

"Yes, I suppose it can." Naomi agreed. "But I assure you, no harm will come to you. From me or otherwise."

"My concern is not just for myself." Mycroft said unashamedly. "But for my brother as well."

"I've already demonstrated he is under my protection as well. What more do you want me to say?"

He paused in thought, mulling that over for a second before replying. "Nothing, as of now. I've only spoken with you three times. Perhaps I'd just like confirmation that we'll continue this…interaction and that nothing will change during the time it takes for you to get bored of me."

At that, Naomi laughed. It was light, and almost mocking. "Not anytime soon then. We have much to discuss."

"Speaking of which, I believe we were talking about you." Mycroft reminded her.

"Were we?" Naomi asked with an amiable smile. She paused before saying, as a comment more than a question. "You don't trust me do you?"

"Trust is important, and not to be given out lightly." He said. "And while you've saved my brother, and have been friendly for these two sessions, trust is not that easy to come by with me. Especially with one who is so hard to read and deduce. You could simply be biding your time to use me in one way or another. Or…fix me or my brother like you've fixed angels."

Naomi was quiet for a moment, sharp blue eyes staring at him. "I have no intention of playing in your head. Nor changing who you are or messing with your memories. You or your brother. There is no way for you to know for sure, of course. So this is where you'll have to trust me."

"I'll take your word for the moment, as it seems I have very little choice. But I'll grant you trust when it's appropriate."

"Do you not wish to satisfy your curiosity about me, as I do you? I do not want this to be a one sided interaction."

"And yet you basically made this a requirement for saving my brother."

"Are you interested in me?" Naomi said, apparently attempting the direct approach.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes just slightly, shifting in his chair to cross the other leg over. He waited a long pause before answering. "If I'm being honest…yes, I am."

"And I am, you." She said. "Now that we have that settled, I suppose trust will come eventually. Spoken or unspoken."

"As long as we don't end up as pawns in whatever go around your Heaven has in store. I'm vaguely familiar with the 'supernatural' as you put it, and I would not like to be dragged into that here."

"And I will do my best to make sure you are kept distant from it." Naomi said. "If I wanted to speak to a hunter, I would have found one. You are much more interesting, intelligent, and certainly less self-destructive."

"I have a hunter as a contact, whom I've only spoken to once. It's more of a 'just in case' situation." He said, putting his tea cup down now that he was through.

"You like being prepared." She commented. "Then you can consider me a contact as well, if you ever need my assistance, you only need pray."

"Pray?" Mycroft nearly scoffed, it was subtle.

"Yes." She nodded. "I'm sure you're familiar with the concept, even if you haven't actually prayed in years. I suppose you could compare the act to thinking at me with use of my name. I'll hear you. As long as you don't broadcast a general prayer to everyone, we should be fine."

Mycroft took a second to think about that, processing it and then drawing a conclusion in less than a second. "You do not wish of the others to know you're here."

"Yes."

"Why is that?"

Naomi smiled just slightly. "I am allowed personal time, more accurately, I take personal time. This is hardly the first time I've ventured down to Earth. But I distance myself from the others, it's an essential part of my job. One that I'm sure you can identify with. Forgive me for wanting to keep my time here private."

"Is it a compliment? Or am I simply a card that you're tucking up your sleeve to play later?"

"I suppose we'll see." She said vaguely.

"And you've made your power very clear, I'm not sure I could resist if you did intend to play me."

"No you wouldn't." Naomi spoke honestly, casually. "But that's not my intention. I could level your city, command a thousand angels to do my bidding, take over this country. But I don't. I have self-control, and I'm not some power-hungry creature. My sights are set higher."

Mycroft looked her over curiously, taking her words to ponder for later. "All that power and you wish to spend your free time having tea with a human. It's rather curious."

"Is it? Perhaps you should think on it." Naomi replied with a faint smile as she set her tea cup down. "Now, I believe we'll have to finish this conversation next month. I was in the middle of an interrogation, and I really should be getting back. I am sorry to cut this one short, but we do have plenty of time."

"Next month then." Mycroft nodded in acknowledgement. A second later, she was gone, leaving an empty chair and an empty tea cup.


	5. 19 September 2005

**_19 September 2005, Ten Thirty-Nine PM_ **

Mycroft Holmes wasn't a man who often experienced fear. Far from it. He stood and watched the world turn, he dictated government issues, made decisions that affected people's lives, and some that ended people's lives. Fear would be illogical and distracting. Walking into a house occupied by a violent gang, completely unarmed and without backup, even that was not enough to scare him.

It was the fact that they had his brother, and had threatened to slit his throat. That thought sent shivers up his spine and made his chest clench. Sentiment.

Mycroft wasn't even carrying his usual umbrella, and his hand twitched in its absence. The thin blade inside it would be considered a weapon if they were actually clever enough to check. He doubted they would be, but he couldn't take the chance. Not with Sherlock's life hanging in the balance. The agreement had been simple, and he'd barely thought about it. His life for Sherlock's. He'd attempted to work through every eventuality or discover how to get the gang to reconsider, planning ways they could both get out alive, nothing was promising. Reckless revenge was a powerful motivator.

Instead, it came to this. Mycroft would walk in, Sherlock would walk out. One would die, the other would live.

Sherlock was his first priority, above anything and everything else. From the very first time his seven year old self had held his little brother, he'd promised to always keep him safe, whatever the cost. And apparently the payment today was his own life. This was one of the very reasons he disliked having his name out in the open, preferred watching and dictating from the sidelines. But this gang had connections, and those connections knew his name and position, and this gang had a grudge. If Sherlock hadn't gotten captured, the entire gang would have been hunted down one by one anyways, just for that tidbit of information. But circumstances led him to this. It was likely this gang would not survive murdering him, Sherlock would be sure of that, his PA would be sure of that, the British Government would be sure of that.

Mycroft took a deep calming breath as he knocked on the door as instructed. His usual tailored three piece black suit was immaculate, and his thoughts drifted for just a moment on the blood stains that would likely ruin it. He dismissed the thoughts quickly in favor of his usual indifferent mask. The door opened and a bearded man let him in, and then frisked him for weapons. Mycroft made several deductions about said man, but also dismissed those as unimportant. The only important thing was making sure his little brother was alive and well. A quick trip through the nearly empty house the gang was using found him being pushed into the back den area.

Mycroft's eyes found his little brother quickly. Beaten up, bloody nose, cracked rib, dislocated shoulder, and currently tied to a chair with his arms behind his back. Sherlock's head lifted as Mycroft walked in, and the look on his face, despite the gag, was telling. It always had been, Mycroft had years of experience deducing his brother, even now. Sherlock was afraid, confused, out of his element, ashamed, dejected, struggling to find courage.… Mycroft would have chastised him for that, under different circumstances. Instead he attempted a smile and walked right over.

"Holm-" Whatever the leader (a large man with stubble on his chin who smelled of take away and body oder) was going to say was interrupted immediately by Mycroft.

"If you'll allow me a few words with my brother, I assume everyone knows what's going on here. You needn't start your melodramatic speech just yet." Without hesitation, Mycroft reached over and removed the gag from around Sherlock's head himself.

"Mycroft, what the _hell_ are you doing here?" Sherlock spoke quickly and quietly, a terrified edge leaking out of his voice.

"Saving your life, brother mine. Again." Mycroft said impassively.

"But _this_ …you can't."

"I can, and I will. I need you to go home. See-"

"Alright, that's enough!" The gruff interruption came with a hand on Mycroft's shoulder and a pull away from Sherlock. The hand pushed, forcing Mycroft to his knees several feet in front of his little brother. The click of a safety being shut off of a gun sounded in the room as Mycroft grimaced with the dull pain that accompanied the position, and the fear that had suddenly seized his chest.

Mycroft's heart rate increased, his calm demeanor hiding a tightness in his chest, all inevitable. So this is how it was going to be. Shot in the head in front of Sherlock, could be worse, but the image would be one that Sherlock wouldn't be able to delete, sentiment aside. "When are you going to release him?" He asked, keeping eye contact with his brother, but speaking to the man holding the gun.

The large man chuckled darkly, his beer belly wiggling just a little too close for comfort. "We're not going to release the kid yet, the coppers will show eventually. Long after you're dead."

Mycroft and Sherlock's eyes met again, deep blue on sky blue. One with an air of confidence, the other terrified for the life of his big brother, trying and failing to hide the emotion of the situation.

Sherlock sniffed, pulling on his restraints for the umpteenth time, his voice cracking as he cried out for his brother, his archenemy, using a childhood nickname that had been neglected for more than a decade. " _My_ …."

"It's okay, Sherly, it will be okay." Mycroft said calmly, despite the cool steel of a gun just inches from his temple.

The man holding the gun chuckled darkly again and said. "Good-bye Mr Holmes."

"I _really_ don't think so." The familiar female voice said.

The next sound was a snapped neck of the man holding the gun. The body dropped and the other six men in the room turned their guns or knives on the auburn haired woman in a gray business suit. She smiled politely, lifting both hands and making a twisting motion. All six of the men died too quickly for their sins, the snap of bones and the thuds of their bodies hitting the floor happened nearly simultaneously.

Naomi, Angel of the Lord, heaved a slight sigh for effect and stepped right over one of the corpses towards Mycroft, dusting her hands off. "Tedious."

Sherlock's jaw had slacked, his watery eyes open wide, his brain likely trying to make sense of what he just saw through the emotion of the entire situation. "Mm…" he cleared his throat and tried again. "My? What…"

Mycroft's brain was working miles faster than his body, he'd already accepted Naomi's well timed arrival, the death of the men who'd planned to kill him, and the fact that his brother would now know of Naomi's existence. Moving on. He sank back on his feet for just a second before lifting his nearly middle aged body to stand up. "I suppose I should thank-"

He was interrupted by Naomi, who'd stepped up to him, expression condescending if at all readable. "You better thank me. You didn't even think about asking for help? I am simply too busy for the kind of work it'd take to raise you from the dead."

"Yes, you're busy, which I why I decided against calling you. I assumed-"

Naomi interrupted him again. "You assumed? Next time you find yourself walking into mortal danger, pray. It's hardly that much work to come save your life. Do you doubt my ability?"

"I didn't think that rescue missions were a part of our…agreement." Mycroft said, meeting her eyes and straightening to his full height after he brushed his suit off.

"Excuse me?" Sherlock's voice was small, confused, the young man experiencing more emotions in a short amount of time than anyone should. Both pairs of blue eyes turned towards the little brother. "I'm….confused."

"Of course you are." Naomi snapped her fingers, breaking the bonds that held him. "Sherlock Holmes. It is good to see you face to face. My name is Naomi."

Sherlock jerked when his zip tied hands were suddenly free, standing up from the chair as quickly as he could, stepping forward, more toward Mycroft than Naomi. "Mycroft?"

Mycroft let out a long-suffering sigh. "This is Naomi, she is an angel, and we've been having discussions for the last few months."

"Discussion- " Sherlock's question was interrupted by Naomi, who put two fingers to the younger brother's forehead to heal him. Sherlock blinked twice, startling just a bit as his broken bones and abrasions were healed completely. "Um…thanks… Naomi." He paused, glancing back at his brother. "So you've been visited by an angel, and you didn't bother to tell me? I mean-"

Naomi let out another sigh, seconds later the trio was standing in the entryway of Mycroft's estate home. Both Holmes brothers blinked rapidly at the change in location, attempting to figure out what had happened.

"Well then-" Naomi didn't give Mycroft a chance to finish before she was interrupting again.

"I'm leaving now. Next time you find yourself about to do something completely stupid. Please give me a call." A polite smile later and the angel had disappeared.

Mycroft pursed his lips, staring at the space she'd vacated. He was quiet for a few moments before finding his brother's, still shocked, eyes. "Well then, Sherlock. Tea?"

Sherlock frowned in confusion. "What the _hell_ just happened?"

The elder brother heaved a sigh, stepping back and towards the hall that would take them to the kitchen. "I assumed that was obvious, apparently you're still in some sort of denial state. Accept the facts you've seen, brother mine." He glanced over his shoulder as he walked. "But you will still have questions."

"Obviously." Sherlock said as he walked, picking at the blood stains on his shirt. But he remained quiet until Mycroft was halfway through making them tea, likely thinking through the entire ordeal, as he should be. The younger bother looked nervous, uncertain. "So….you were about to walk in there…for me. And you weren't anticipating a rescue. You thought you were going to die."

"Another obvious thing." Mycroft said casually, resting his hands on the counter, staring down at them as he waited. "Don't be slow, Sherlock."

Sherlock may have looked mildly offended, but it settled quickly. "I just don't understand."

"And I doubt you would even if I explained it, so let's move on to the other questions you have." Mycroft pushed off from the counter and straightened up to his full height.

"Fine. Angel friend. How and when did you meet." Sherlock demanded rather than asked.

"November last year, you are familiar with the events of that month, I think. You were dying, she saved you, our conversations have been the payment for that service." Mycroft answered as he finished preparing their tea. He passed a cup over.

Sherlock's face was a mix of confused and amused. A truly odd combination. He took the tea with a 'thank you' and then paused before saying anything else. He took a sip of the hot liquid, mulling the entire encounter over in his head, the wheels turning. "So you've been chatting up an angel because you didn't want me to die?"

"Yes, however crudely you wish to put it, that is the general idea." Mycroft said, picking up his own cup. "You didn't need to know. No one does aside from my PA, and even she doesn't know the extent."

"The extent." Sherlock repeated. "Something else besides talking? Are you two…"

"No. No!" Mycroft insisted. "I meant the extent of our conversations and what Naomi is."

"Whatever." Sherlock said childishly.

"Very mature, Sherlock." The elder said, glancing into his cup. He took a quick second to mull over the closeness of the encounter again, and then quickly put it from his mind. Hardly the first time they'd been that close to a permanent demise. "You didn't need to know about her, and it hardly has that big of an impact on my life. Once a month, for a couple hours at most. Barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things."

"Right, of course, just you…talking to an angel. Definitely not part of the grand scheme of things." Sherlock said bitterly. "What do you talk about anyways?"

Mycroft gave Sherlock a stuffy look, or at least that's what his little brother would interpret it as. "Many different things." At his brother's expression, he elaborated. "Work, politics, theology, philosophy, family. It's the only 'social' thing I do that is not directly work related, and it really is none of your concern, as I have little choice in the matter."

"Social, right." Sherlock didn't comment further. Obviously already done with the conversation, or at least knowledgeable that he wasn't going to squeeze any more information out of his brother. "Are you going to force me into a car today to take me home, or can I call a cab?"

"The car, of course." Mycroft said, straightening up and returning to his normal demeanor quickly. "I'll call it, I assume you're ready to go."

Sherlock huffed a bit out his nose and straightened his rumpled and bloodied clothes as best he could. He just kept eye contact for a few long seconds before relaxing slightly and glancing away as he spoke. "Thanks for the rescue, angel assisted or not. I….appreciate it."

Mycroft's blue eyes ran over his brother one more time before offering a brief amiable smile. "You're welcome, brother dear."

Sherlock didn't bother with a good-bye and turned to head for the long driveway to wait for his ride. Mycroft didn't mind, but he watched his brother walk away. He didn't mind being alone, letting Sherlock leave. There was quite a lot to ponder, in silence.


	6. 7 October 2005

**_7 October 2005, Four PM_ **

Mycroft Holmes did not get apprehensive. Not that he'd admit however. But since the whole debacle that was his attempted sacrifice for Sherlock and the subsequent rescue by Naomi, he'd wondered what their next conversation would be like. He always wondered what their conversation would be like. It had nearly been a year of this. A year among many, she had assured him.

As was usual, he'd readied the tea tray, and brought it to the front sitting room. He wasn't particularly surprised to see her sitting there already, and he gave her a polite nod as she turned her head to look at him. "Hello."

"Greetings Mycroft." Naomi said, clasping her hands in her lap.

Mycroft didn't speak, moving to put the tea tray down on the coffee table to the side and pour a cup for both of them. "I trust all is well." He broke the silence after he passed her the tea cup.

"Yes, for the most part." Naomi said, taking a single sip before speaking again. "And I assume you are recovered from the last time I saw you."

"Yes." He answered impassively. "Your intervention was appreciated."

"I'm sure it was. A lesson for next time as well." Naomi replied. "Let's just hope that next time I won't be busy."

"Were you busy this last time?"

"No more than usual."

"Right." Mycroft took a moment to look her over again, automatically trying to deduce but as always, coming up short. Vague and not able to be deduced, he didn't like that. After a moment he posed a question. "I was wondering if you'd like to engage in a friendly match of chess today."

"Chess, a board game who's roots date back a millennia and yet, I've never played." Naomi replied, tilting her head just slightly. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

"Do not worry, I will teach you. I'm sure you'll catch on fairly quickly." He said, setting his tea cup aside and reaching for the box that he'd removed from it's storage in anticipation of her saying yes. She was intelligent, and he was sure she'd learn, perhaps even be fairly good competition.

"Is this something you enjoy?" She asked.

"Yes." He said immediately. "I have been known to play alone, but it's not nearly as stimulating as playing with someone else. My mother isn't horrible, but I've been winning nearly every game against her since I was six. Sherlock does well, when he can be bothered to sit down for a whole game."

"I look forward to it then." Naomi replied. He could feel her eyes on him as he set up the board, likely memorizing the pieces. He wasn't terribly sure how much information she could store and use at the forefront of her mind, but he supposed it was quite a lot. Would be beneficial.

A long silent minute later, the board was set and he was explaining the uses and moves of the various pieces. A bit of strategy, but not too much. He wanted to see how quickly she'd catch on. Eventually after she'd nodded her understanding, he moved his first white pawn and waited.

"How's Sherlock?" Naomi asked as she moved her pawn.

"He's functioning." Mycroft replied, taking his turn. "I'm nearly certain the events of last month were a bit shocking to him. We've only spoken once since then."

"You don't speak often then, do you?"

"There's… tension, sibling rivalry isn't that uncommon among humans." He paused, playing again after she did. "Especially after circumstances such as ours."

"Something you care to go into?" Naomi asked.

"Not particularly." Mycroft said, pausing to take off his suit coat and then roll up his sleeves. "Our pasts are just that, past. Our relationship is defined by the past, but there's no point in dwelling on it. Our relationship is functional."

"You still care about him deeply however." She pointed out, delicately taking out a pawn with her bishop. "What do I do with this?" She asked, holding it up.

"Put it along the side here." Mycroft said, his mind already working for an answer to her statement. "And for Sherlock…yes, I…care about him. A lot more than he expects me to."

The pawn went down and she looked up at him again. "You have a hard time admitting it?"

"Not necessarily, it's just not something I discuss with many." He replied. "My parents only."

"You do not discuss personal matters with anyone else."

"No. There's little point, and it's actually dangerous for a man in my line of work."

"Weakness. Caring about him can be considered a weakness." She concluded. "I agree. "

"Do you? Not many people do, but then again, you're not exactly people." Mycroft looked up from where he was studying the board.

"Yes, caring about someone is a weakness that can be exploited." Naomi replied, as if she'd done it herself. She probably had, but he left that to consider later, he might just be reading into it. "Especially with a man of your position, it only makes sense to limit yourself in such personal matters."

"It is." Mycroft acknowledged. "However, caring for my brother is….inevitable, as they say."

"Familial sentiment?"

He paused, hand hovering over the piece was was just about to move. "Yes, I think that's the proper term. Like I said, inevitable. Sherlock needs someone to watch out for him, whether he wants it or not, I will do that because I can and want to. Have to, I suppose is another way of saying that. Ever since he was a child."

Naomi smiled just slightly, but he couldn't read her expression. He just moved his next piece as she replied. "It's admirable, it really is. I do hope you never have to choose between the safety of the people and your brother. It's not an easy decision."

Mycroft looked her over, trying to read into her words more than her expression. He paused before responding. "Yes…I can imagine it wouldn't be. Fortunately there are more than enough safeguards in place to prevent something like that from occurring."

"I hope so." Naomi agreed, stealing another bishop. "I'll assist as needed, if I'm not busy. I have no desire for your premature demise."

Mycroft glanced up at her from the board, not sure how to respond. "Yes, well, I suppose that's good to know. Next time we get kidnapped by a bloodthirsty gang, I will…pray for you."

"You learned your lesson then." Naomi said.

"If that's what that was, then yes, I suppose so." Mycroft said, narrowing his eyes just slightly.

"Still don't trust me then." Naomi commented, sitting back in her seat after she moved her queen.

"As I said before, trust is not something to be given lightly. If the moment comes, I will tell you."

"What is your fear?"

Mycroft hesitated, trying to understand the question or why she would ask it. "My brother's life and sanity. As well as my own, if I'm being honest, I fear you're using me or us as a means to an end."

"Honest, I appreciate that." Naomi replied vaguely. "Everything will be transparent in due time. But for now, enjoy the game." She smiled just so to take her next turn.

Mycroft didn't reply to that, he knew his place in this...situation, but instead moved his own queen to take hers. "Check."


	7. 7 February 2007

**_7 February 2007, Three Fifty Four PM_ **

After the rescue mission, things had returned to normal. As normal as one could get while entertaining an angel on a monthly basis. Topics covered a wide range of subjects, and now, nearly three years into their deal. Mycroft was more comfortable with an angel who could kill him at the snap of her fingers. Odd, it was. She was intelligent, and certainly able to keep up with whatever he wished to discuss or bounce ideas off of her. He didn't necessary mind the company.

However, he still didn't trust her completely. Trust was something to be earned, and he had little knowledge of whether or not she was simply going to be using him in one way or another. The years didn't change that.

Nothing ever really changed, Naomi would arrive on time, they'd talk from anywhere from twenty minutes to two hours, and then she'd leave again. No other contact, just tea, conversation, and occasionally chess at 4 o'clock in the afternoon on the seventh of every month. Tea, which she drank; conversation, which was always interesting and never boring; and chess, which she'd become quite good at, beating him two out of three times regularly.

Today she was due to arrive any minute, and he was in the kitchen getting the tea tray ready as usual.

Mycroft hadn't expected Naomi to arrive early, and he turned around at the familiar, but subtle, sound of wings. He gave her a polite close-mouthed smile, as usual, and stepped away from the counter to address her. "Naomi, you're early,"

"Yes, I wanted to catch you before you started the tea. I have a proposition for our time together today." Naomi said, clasping her hands in front of her. "We're going out."

"Out?" Mycroft asked, for deductions were more than difficult with her, and he wasn't sure he was completely understanding it yet.

"Out, as not here." Naomi said vaguely. "We're going to talk as we take a walk. You won't need your coat, are you ready?"

Mycroft turned his head slightly at the suggestion, glanced down at his usual three piece suit, this time in black pinstripes, and then nodded. "Yes, I think, if what I'm wearing is appropriate. Let me just retrieve my umbrella."

"It should be." Naomi said, with a short nod, eyes scanning his appearance.

Mycroft turned, abandoning the tea set, and went to fetch his usual black umbrella he was never without. A minute later, he was returning back to the kitchen, double checking his phone in his trouser pocket. "I believe I am ready."

"Then off we go." She slipped her hand into his, taking him completely by surprise. The next surprise was the fact that suddenly they were not in his kitchen, but rather along the ocean somewhere. He couldn't name it, and he let go of her hand as he took a step forward towards the ocean. The flying thing he'd only done the once before, and it was difficult to describe, but he supposed he'd get used to it if it continued.

The view was exquisite, if he allowed himself to think about such things. The fact that he was there and not in his estate was pushed to the side as his eyes drifted over the expanse of blue water. If he had to guess, it was the Caribbean, around noon with the time change. He didn't have to guess for soon Naomi was speaking again.

"This is St. Thomas Island, near Puerto Rico." Naomi informed him as she stepped away and down the path. "Lovely place for a walk, even if I prefer the mountains. Next time, perhaps. Come along."

Mycroft moved with her, his sharp mind taking in the fact that they had flown away from London to the Caribbean in a blink of an eye. Again, easy enough to understand, but the why still escaped him. "Why the…change of location?"

"Because I wanted to." Naomi said simply. "Creation has it's beauty, and I've always enjoyed aesthetics, in Heaven or on Earth. Sharing it with you is simply better than visiting alone."

Mycroft quirked a brow at the last statement, but didn't read too much into it. "Can I expect more trips away?" He asked.

"If you have a favorable reaction to this trip, yes." She confirmed. "But if you'd rather remain in London, we can as well. I have no desire to make you uncomfortable nor drag you all over the planet without your permission."

"Oh, that's good to know." Mycroft said, putting his hand in his trouser pocket. "What are we discussing today then?"

"Your choice, I believe I questioned you last month about your trip to Italy and subsequent work there."

"Yes, I remember." Mycroft paused for a moment. "I suppose we can adventure to another curiosity of mine. We've never been through some of the more in depth nature of your existence. I'm a bit curious, if I can admit it."

"Naturally." She replied, turning her head from the ocean view to his face. She paused a moment before speaking. "This isn't my actual body, but I have a feeling you knew that already."

"A hypothesis at most, I wasn't going to ask specifically."

"Understandable. To continue, this is a vessel. A woman I courted and then asked to occupy. She said yes, and I've been using it ever since."

"When did you acquire it?" Mycroft asked.

"Around two hundred years ago." Naomi replied, pausing before continuing. "I went on an undercover mission on Earth and I needed a vessel."

"A mission." He raised a brow, but didn't press. Likely a conversation for another day. "Curious. And is she…in there with you?"

"Yes. The human consciousness and soul are locked away, I suppose you could say. Lost in her memories."

"And she agreed to that?" Mycroft asked. "Being used as a vessel for hundreds of years?"

"Yes."

"I would, in no way shape or form, be willing to do that. Trapped inside your own body, essentially forever, correct?"

Naomi answered again. "Yes. Though some, if the vessel is only needed a short time, release them again. By the time I didn't have need for her any longer, it was too late to return her to her family. I made the choice to keep her. It varies with the angel in question."

"It sounds like there are quite a few of you." Mycroft commented.

"Thousands." Naomi said. "But many are in Heaven and have no need for a vessel. Or some have kept a vessel for thousands of years."

"So you only need a vessel while you are on Earth."

"They are for you." Naomi responded. "The human eye cannot behold an angel's true form."

"Oh?"

"I would burn your eyes out in a way that we can't heal." Naomi said practically, but there was a little smile. "Very painful, and debilitating, of course. Not something one enjoys causing."

"Then consider my curiosity appeased." Mycroft replied with a bit of a smile of his own, eyes drifting from her back to the ocean view as they walked.

In response, Naomi did something he didn't hear very often. She laughed. It was short and light, and then spoke again. "Very well." She considered him a moment. "Do you like it here?"

"Here?" Mycroft turned his head to meet her eyes. "St. Thomas? Yes, I suppose I don't mind. The view is pleasing. I'm generally not one who travels for pleasure, however."

"You consider this pleasure?" Naomi asked with a quirked brow.

Mycroft blinked twice, looking away. "In a matter of speaking." He said to attempt to recover. "'For pleasure' is used to refer to things non-work related. That is simply what I meant."

"Would you like to do it again?" Naomi asked, her blue eyes fixed on him. "Travel somewhere instead of stay in?"

"Perhaps, I don't think I'd mind. Location matters little for our conversations."

"Correct." She replied. "Not every month, because I do enjoy chess."

"I've noticed, you've become quite good." Mycroft said, thinking back to the last game, which he'd lost rather quickly. Not that he disliked losing, her skill simply provided him with the opportunity to improve.

"Then I believe I'll make trips a part of our regular meetings. If you have anywhere you'd like to go…for pleasure. Please let me know." Naomi offered a smile.

"I'll get you a list next time." Mycroft mirrored her smile and then turned back to the walk.


	8. 6 May 2007

**_6 May 2007 Eight PM_ **

"This is important, Sherlock." Mycroft said, his tone scolding, as if he were lecturing his little brother for stealing the last biscuit, rather than a matter of national security.

"So?" Sherlock was sprawled out on the couch of the tiny flat he was currently renting. Blue dressing gown over ratty pajamas, the consulting detective was in one of his less agreeable moods.

Contrasted to his brother, the British Government was looking immaculate in a black three piece suit, red tie, and usual black umbrella. His long fingers spun the tan handle of the brolly and his blue eyes were fixed on Sherlock. "Brother mine, you are needed. Stop this childish behavior."

"It's boring. You could have any one of your trained monkeys investigate this one." Sherlock quipped back, meeting the look with one of his own.

"It's not…" Mycroft snapped, slowing himself to take a calming breath and continue less forcefully. Patience wearing thin at his aggravating little brother. "It's not _boring_ , Sherlock. It's a matter of national security and I would like your assistance. It's not dangerous, I...we just need your expertise."

"Hence the boring." Sherlock said, closing his eyes and turning nose towards the ceiling. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

Whatever Mycroft was going to say was prevented by a soft cleaning of a throat, and an unassuming woman in business clothes stood in the open door of the flat. Her dark hair was in a short bob, brown eyes flitting between the two men. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes."

Both brothers turned their heads to look at the woman, one confused, the other suspicious. Both deducing and falling short. Mycroft recovered first, his hand twitching on the handle of his umbrella. "Can I help you?"

The woman didn't so much as move, but suddenly she was in front of Mycroft. Two fingers went to his forehead and he slumped unconscious, body collapsing immediately. She caught him, and without another look to the other Holmes, vanished.

Sherlock hadn't said anything, or moved besides. It had all happened too fast. One second Mycroft was there, the next his brother and the woman had disappeared into thin air.

After the split second it took for him to realize what had happened, Sherlock threw himself off the couch and stood up. Hands ran through his hair as he was in a complete loss of what to do, spinning in a circle in the place Mycroft had just vacated. He ignored the left behind umbrella.

Questions ran through his mind. Who was the woman? What did she want with Mycroft? What was she? Where did they go? _How_ did they go? What was going to happen to his brother? Who…

What was that name…Na….Natasha. No, that wasn't it. Naomi. Naomi an angel. She'd done the vanishing trick herself. And told Mycroft to pray if he was in trouble that couple years ago. Logic had him connecting the dots. And Sherlock did something he hadn't done before. He prayed.

It took about ten minutes, but Naomi landed in the living room of the tiny flat and fixed sharp blue eyes on the younger Holmes. "Sherlock." She said as a greeting. "Can I help you?"

Sherlock blinked twice before moving right on to the point. "Someone just took Mycroft. Asked for him by name and then disappeared with him, vanished, poofed. Whatever your flying thing is. You wouldn't happen to know why or who, would you?"

Naomi's emotions would not be betrayed on her face, but the look there was surprise if nothing else. "When?"

"Just now." He replied quickly, already moving towards his bedroom. "Well, right before I called you."

"What are you doing?" Naomi asked, eyes following him as he slipped into the room.

"Changing. I need to find him. And you're going to help me."

Naomi scoffed. "I'm going to find him, and you're going to stay here. I don't need you."

Sherlock poked his head out of the room, dress shirt in hand. "You already do need me. Because you're still here."

Eyes narrowed further as the man moved back to finish changing. "It's probably an angel. It doesn't smell like a demon has been here."

"So some crazy angel just stole the British Government. Wonderful." Sherlock replied sarcastically, pushing his way out the door again, dressed in dark jeans and a dress shirt. Cold eyes fixed themselves on the angel again. "This is because of you, isn't it? Why else would someone want to take him."

Naomi met the look with one of her own as she crossed her arms. "That seems to be the likeliest reason."

"You really could have just left well enough alone." Sherlock said, shrugging on his long dark coat. When she didn't respond, he continued. "Well. What are you going to do?"

"Was this person in a female vessel?"

"Yes. Dark complexion, ivory business suit. Hard to deduce." Sherlock replied.

"I already have angels searching. This is a rogue I need to bring home." Naomi explained vaguely. "Why Tamar took Mycroft is likely because she noticed my connection here. My best guess is that she's interrogating him for information on me."

"And what does that interrogation entail?"

Naomi didn't reply right away, meeting his eyes with just as much focus as he was giving her. "It depends, but it's likely not pleasant."

"Then find him." Sherlock demanded, not intimidated or impressed with this angel. This angel, who'd seemingly dragged both of them into this nonsense.

"I have a host searching for our wayward sibling already, they will be found."

"They know about your pet human?" He retorted.

Naomi's lips pursed slightly. "No, and they won't."

"Because it's dangerous if they do." Sherlock concluded. "For you…and I'm assuming for Mycroft too. But I doubt you care about that. Find him."

Naomi gave Sherlock a withering look that looked remarkably similar to ones his brother had given him as well. Hence why Sherlock was not intimidated. She uncrossed her arms and said sharply. "You will stay here, I will find Tamar, and Mycroft. Good bye."

Sherlock blinked and she was gone. With a sharp exhale, he reached for his phone, pressing the speed dial and putting it up to his ear as he waited. "Anthea." He said. "I need you to track Mycroft's mobile. GPS…I need it as soon as possible…yes, right now would be ideal…he's been taken."


	9. 6 May 2007

**_6 May 2007 Nine PM_ **

When Mycroft woke up it took him a little bit to get his bearings. He was on his front, cheek to cold cement, limbs splayed out around him. The room itself was dimly lit, not too big, with boxes. Likely a storage room in an office building basement, if he had to make a guess. The company logo didn't look familiar and the language on the signs was Spanish. It was safe to assume he wasn't in the country anymore, as for where, he wasn't certain.

Heaving a sigh, he put his hands on the ground and pushed his middle aged body up off of the floor until he was kneeling. It was then that his eyes found the only other person in the room.

The woman who'd taken him stood there, hands clasped in front of her and wearing a serious expression on her face. "I need information." She said simply.

Mycroft let a slow breath out of his nose as he pushed himself to stand again. "You'll have to be more specific." He said coldly.

"Naomi." The angel replied darkly, as if the name was poison on her tongue.

"Naturally." He replied dryly, stretching to his full height and staring the woman…angel down. "I'm afraid I can't help you. I've had very few correspondences with her, and it's been against my will."

"Even so, she's coming down to see you for a reason." The angel said, her expression going a bit more menacing. "I need to know that reason."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you, as I don't know myself." Mycroft said, lifting his chin just slightly.

"I'll be the judge of that."

Mycroft didn't have time to react, for suddenly the angel was behind him again. A cold hand slipped behind his neck, and then the white hot pain jolted through his body. He screamed.

* * *

"Buenos Aires."

"Argentina?" Sherlock asked, still on the phone as his brother's PA tracked the phone's GPS.

"Yes, I'm narrowing down the exact location now. I have to ask, why is he in South America at the moment?" Anthea asked, her voice torn between humor and complete confusion. "It wasn't exactly on the schedule, and he only went to see you a few hours ago."

"It's got to do with Naomi."

"Mycroft's monthly visitor." Anthea stated. "I know very little, he doesn't talk much about her on a regular basis."

Sherlock was quiet a moment, passing the time until the computer could locate his brother. "Let's just say she's powerful, and someone associated with her has taken him."

There were a few moments of silence before the PA spoke again. "I've got the exact location, looks like an office building in downtown, I'll send the coordinates to your mobile."

"Appreciated."

"What are you going to do?"

Sherlock exhaled a breath, taking a quick look out of the window. "Make a deal."

* * *

After ending the call, Sherlock prayed again. The whole of the conversation and locating of the phone hadn't taken very long at all, so his location hadn't changed. He was still dressed and ready to go in his living room of the very tiny flat he was currently renting.

Naomi landed again, her expression annoyed if at all readable. And she crossed her arms. "We're working on it, Sherlock. We can't locate him, the building it probably warded."

"That's because you're a bunch of idiots that don't know how to trace a mobile's GPS." Sherlock said, holding up the phone in his hand to show her. "I'm going with you."

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "And why would I take you?"

"Because you said it's warded. I'm not an angel, I can get in." Sherlock reasoned, as if she should have thought of that.

"You do realize your safety is one of my priorities at the moment. Serving you up to Tamar would not be in your best interest." Naomi said authoritatively.

"And you can't get in without me, I have stock in this, he's my brother. I'm not going to run away at the sight of danger. You're taking me and we're getting him out alive."

There was a tense silence, a stare off, until Naomi relented. Whatever was going on inside her head was not deducible, but Sherlock didn't have time to think about that. She nodded once, unfolding her arms, and said, "Very well."

A second later, she had transported them to the coordinates that Anthea had sent over, and the angel and the consulting detective stood inside a very normal looking office building in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Sherlock didn't bother saying anything before he started out walking as quickly as possible. This was the location, but the exact room would be warded. It wasn't until he descended the stairs to the basement that he found the white painted symbols, hiding the place from outside angels. It was the sound of a familiar shout through the locked door that spurred his next actions. A quick look around had him picking out a can of spray paint from a storage cupboard, and he started painting over the symbols.

Eventually, the door was able to be opened and Naomi took the lead. She unlocked the door with a twitch of her hand and burst into the room, silver blade out and ready.

The scene that met them both wasn't pretty. The angel stood over the curled up figure of the most powerful man in Britain. Mycroft lay on his side, hands up and trying to protect his head, with a bloody nose and a pained grimace on his face. Sherlock sent one worried glance to Naomi, but the angel's attention was only on the other angel.

"Naomi, speak of the bitch." Tamar said, speaking her name with disgust as she stepped over Mycroft's body and towards Naomi. "You have no right to your position. It was meant to be me."

"You have no patience for it, sister." Naomi said coldly, holding the blade just a bit tighter as she called for her squadron. "What you're doing is wrong."

"You taught me everything I know, in case you've forgotten." Tamar snapped.

"Unnecessary violence is not in Heaven's interest, you're acting out of line."

"Oh, it's not unnecessary, it did lead me to you." Tamar smiled slightly, dangerously. "What is the little human for then?"

Naomi shot a condescending look again. "My business is mine and mine alone. I'm taking you back to Heaven, and we will…discuss it there."

A silver angel blade slid out from it's hiding place, and Tamar gripped it tightly. "I'm not going back to be tortured by you, _sister_."

"Then I believe I have no other choice." Naomi said, holding out her own angel blade as she leapt forward. The clash of the two swords rung throughout the room, and the two angels spun in a deadly dance, only a few meters from the humans.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had taken the opening and moved in to Mycroft's side, kneeling on the ground. Hands went to the elder's shoulder and he shook it lightly. "Mycroft? Come on, let's get you out of here."

"Mmm fine." Mycroft groaned, closing his eyes as the angels fought. He breathed in a deep breath and then, with Sherlock's help, pushed himself to a sitting position. His eyes opened and flitted to the warring angels. The outcome of that battle would likely determine whether he and his brother got to live, but there was little he could do aside from wait.

It was a sight to see. The angels, both in female vessels wearing professional business attire, were moving and slicing and attacking each other.

Tamar had gotten a hit in, and Naomi had cried out as the slash on her shoulder started leaking a silvery light. The other angel's next movement was barely noticeable to the two humans, but the twitch of her off hand was the only warning they got.

Mycroft neck snapped. The man didn't even have time to tense before his body was moved supernaturally fast and against his will. Sherlock's strangled cry was lost upon ears that wouldn't hear him. Blue eyes open, his head was now currently cocked at an unnatural angle, his body limp against his brother's.

Mycroft Timothy Holmes was dead.

That move had been unexpected, not strategic, just revenge for angel matters. Sherlock wrapped his arms around Mycroft, tucking his face next to his brother's head and shook him again. Like a child, unable to comprehend the fact of his older brother's death. His words were whispered, a plea of sorts, illogical really, but when does logic come into play at these times. "My? Come on My, please wake up…please, I'm sorry…I...I need you. Just wake up, My."

Naomi was injured, but not distracted by the execution of her human. She reacted with another push and a swing of her blade, a long exhausting minute later, she turned the blade and caught Tamar in the neck. With a quick slice, the other angel collapsed. The bright light that accompanied her death filled the room and then vanished, leaving behind dark scorches of wing marks on the cement. Naomi put a hand to her injured shoulder and turned towards the brothers.

Sherlock knelt amid a puddle of his dark coat, long arms wrapped around his brother's limp body, face turned away from the commotion. Mycroft was pulled to Sherlock's chest, and the younger brother's eyes were closed, whispers on his lips.

Naomi's expression was impassive. Whatever that was going on in her head wasn't to be known or deduced. "Sherlock." She said, her voice coming out surprisingly gentle.

Watery blue-grey eyes found hers as the consulting detective turned his head. "Save him." He said. Not an order, not a plea, just a statement.

There may have been some internal debate, but Naomi took the few steps towards them. She knelt down, eyes on Sherlock. Her hair wasn't the perfect bun anymore, the fight having dislodged strands around her face. The wound in her shoulder was spilling both blood and whatever silvery essence that set angels apart from humans. But she reached out a hand, gently placing it on Mycroft's chest above his heart.

The human body, while resilient, was also a delicate balance of cells, chemicals, and microbes. Even minutes after death the body already starts to breakdown. But an angel's power is all encompassing, and the touch of an angel reverted everything back to it's natural and alive state. Naomi's eyes went back to the normal blue as Mycroft startled and breathed in a deep breath of air, his body completely healed.

Sherlock hadn't let go, taking a long few seconds to ensure that Mycroft was breathing and alive and going to stay that way.

Mycroft spoke first, after a dozen or so blinks in an attempt to understand what had just happened. It wasn't all that difficult, but he was strangely at a loss for words. He cleared his throat, gently pushing his brother's arms away so he could move. Despite it all, his brother was his main concern, and deducing eyes ran over Sherlock. "Sherly, are you alright?"

Sherlock acted quickly once his head caught up and he scooted away, brushing off his wrinkled shirt. "Yeah, I'm fine." He said quickly, looking away awkwardly. Ashamed maybe, at the intense expression of emotion.

Mycroft's attention turned back to Naomi and he cleared his throat again. "I…thank you...Naomi."

Naomi's expression slipped into a soft smile he'd never seen before, and she straightened up. "Let's take you both home."


	10. 6 May 2007

**_6 May 2007, Part 3_ **

Naomi, Angel of the Lord, had resurrected Mycroft Holmes and flown him home less than an hour ago. The interaction had been brief, for she had been injured in the battle against Tamar and had things to do. The brothers were safe, if not a bit shaken up and acting awkwardly, so Naomi had left.

She landed in her office in Heaven again, taking a brief moment to fix her vessel's appearance and adjust the colors of the room to a variety of blues. The wound was already healing, but she would require a bit of rest in the coming future to recharge her grace completely. Her squadron had retrieved Tamar's body, and otherwise cleaned up the mess that she'd caused. But there were a few pressing matters she needed to attend to.

The visitor that walked through the glass doors had not been expected, and she lifted her eyes from the information she'd been working on and leaned back in her chair. "Raphael, I did not expect to see you."

"I was coming for a visit anyways, but your recent mission expedited the event." His voice was deep, authoritative, as he took one of the chairs that was across the desk.

"It is taken care of." Naomi said, meeting his dark eyes without fear, as was usual. She'd been appointed by him personally, and they had an understanding.

"I'm told you resurrected a human, sister." Raphael said, folding his hands on his lap. "Not a very common event, it is against nature's course."

"It wasn't nature's course that he died, it was Tamar's attempt at revenge. It was unnecessary collateral damage that I reversed." Naomi explained professionally. "And the human in question is important, unlike so many of them, I felt it was appropriate, if not necessary."

"Understandable." He replied and then paused. "I trust you, Naomi, that's why you're in this position. Your authority and decision making skills are unparalleled. But why the importance of just one human?"

"I know." Naomi said honestly, leaning forward as she clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. "And when I say he's important, it means I have a plan for his future and I need him alive."

"Is this another Solomon?" He asked, his face the usual emotionless, despite the subject of his question.

"If I recall correctly, you sanctioned that mission, brother." Naomi commented lightly, that part of her past neatly tucked away. Only Raphael was privy to that information. "Similar perhaps, but not the same, I have work to do after all."

"Agreed, I can't have you taking time off again." Raphael said, summoning a paper and sliding it towards her. "These are the objectives for the next year, now that Tamar's off the table, we need to find who she was working with. Information was exposed recently, I need it covered up as soon as possible."

"Understood." Naomi replied, glancing over the list quickly as Raphael stood up.

"I have faith you'll do well." He said, standing from the chair to lean over and press a hand to her injured shoulder. The wound healed completely, her grace restored, and she took a moment to attune herself to it again.

"Thank you, Raphael." She said, bowing her head in a respective and thankful manner.

"Don't let it happen again." He stepped away from the chair and towards the door, but he turned back towards her. "And, Naomi?"

"Yes?"

"Even if this is another Solomon, you need to hide your tracks a little better. Tamar didn't just happen upon that knowledge by herself. You may have a mole in your team, one that wishes to undermine you, perhaps a bit of re-evaluation is needed."

Naomi's expression turned solemn, but she nodded. "I rely on your wisdom and appreciate your support, Raphael, thank you."

—

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Naomi had disappeared in a flutter, leaving Sherlock and Mycroft standing awkwardly in the middle of the sitting room at the Holmes estate. Sherlock had shuffled slightly, looking out the window at the darkness outside.

Mycroft took a moment to focus himself, it was taking a lot longer than he normally would have liked. But he cleared his throat, blue eyes looking over his little brother again. "I'm hungry, and you haven't eaten all day, let's find some dinner."

Sherlock looked like he was close to refusing, but a moment later he nodded his head. "Yeah."

Mycroft didn't reply, just took the lead out the double doors and down the hall to the kitchen. He was silent through the quick search of the freezer, the microwaving of the deluxe frozen dinner, and then the move to the kitchen table. Two glasses of water later, and both of the Holmes brothers were seated and eating in complete silence.

Several minutes passed before Mycroft sat back in his chair and took a drink of the water. "Sherlock…are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock said immediately, taking a break from the pasta dish he was about halfway through.

"Obviously." Mycroft replied dryly, leaning back in his chair.

"I should be asking how you are, you're the one who died." Sherlock shot back, attempting to dodge any further questions on his current state.

"Not permanently, apparently." Mycroft replied, clasping hands in his lap. He released a breath slow through his nose. "Your reaction was a bit…unexpected, I just want to ensure you are going to be alright."

"Caring is not an advantage." Sherlock replied flatly, obviously (at least to Mycroft) attempting to rein in his emotions. "I was caught up in the moment, I'd guess. Why are we discussing this, it didn't actually happen."

"It did happen. It just was reversed. I still remember, you still remember. If you wish to delete it, at least control your response first." Mycroft spoke calmly, the usual prompting he'd always done while trying to help his little brother gain control of the mind he possessed.

Sherlock let out a breath. "I'm fine, just carry on." He made a dismissive motion. "What of your angel?"

"She is not _my_ angel." Mycroft replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And I assume I'll be seeing her tomorrow again, as that's the usual day. Questions will be answered then, I'm not in a hurry."

"Are you safe now?" Sherlock questioned.

"She made it seem so."

"And you trust her?"

Mycroft paused, mentally turning over the events of the evening as well as the memories of his few minutes being dead. Heaven wasn't necessarily something he'd believed in, but the facts were there. He dismissed it for later consideration. "I'm not sure at this point, perhaps I do, but I still feel very in the dark. I'll discuss the situation with her tomorrow."

"Just…don't vanish again. I don't care if you can be resurrected, I don't want to do... that again." Sherlock said, awkwardly, looking away.

The corner of Mycroft's mouth twitched just slightly as he regarded his brother again. "I'll do my best. I suppose it's not unfortunate to know that I have an angel around."

"A guardian angel then?" Sherlock scoffed. "You would, like the British Government needs one more form of security."

"I'm not the only one with a guardian angel." Mycroft insisted, more to tease than anything.

"Have you figured out what she wants yet?" The younger changed the subject, reaching for his glass of water.

"Not really, it would appear that she just wants what she is getting. Company. Granted, I haven't given it considerable thought since the beginning, nothing's really changed."

"I suppose we'll see." Sherlock concluded, letting out another sigh. "Or you'll see, I'm not sure she likes me all that much. Not that I mind."

Mycroft huffed in amusement, picking up his fork again. He paused a moment before he repeated thoughtfully,"I suppose we'll see."


	11. 7 May 2007

**_7 May 2007, Four PM_ **

The next day, Mycroft had returned to business as usual. Meetings, consultations, advice, planning, nothing too out of the ordinary. Nothing to give away the fact that he'd died the day before.

Well, died and was resurrected by an angel, but these things do happen apparently. He'd almost find humor in the entire thing, if he wasn't just thinking about it over and over again. He had questions that needed answering. And fortunately, his question answerer was due to arrive any minute.

Naomi landed nearby, and offering a surprisingly gentle smile as she met his eyes. "Hello. You look well."

Mycroft smiled back, the usual close mouthed polite greeting he'd perfected. "Yes, I am. I have a few questions for today, but logistics first. Tea, or are we going out?"

"I was thinking we could go out." Naomi said, turning her head to look around the kitchen for a moment. "Mountains this time, you may want a coat."

"Right." Mycroft said, a bit distracted. A few minutes later, he was ready to go, a black coat pulled over his grey three piece suit. He stepped up to her again. "Ready."

As was the usual when they flew off on these trips, she took his hand in hers. He'd often wondered if it was necessary, for he hadn't noticed a difference the times they'd flown without touching. But he never breached the subject.

They landed instantaneously on a paved walkway along a lakefront, the sparkling waters reflecting the snow covered mountain peaks that surrounded it. Again, he couldn't place the location, but he didn't study for this sort of thing, so it wasn't inconveniencing.

Naomi kept a hold of his hand, and gently pulled him down the path as she started the usual explanation of where they were. "Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada. Hence the coat."

Mycroft glanced down at their joined hands, but didn't pull away, settling into step with her. "The view is.…admirable."

"I thought so too."

"Then I'll proceed with the questions." Mycroft said. "First, who was the angel and how did she find me?"

"Tamar was a rogue, recently escaped from my…service and acting in revenge because she was not awarded a higher position in my division." Naomi paused. "The how is something I'm working on. I likely was tracked at some point, I'm getting to the bottom of it and they will pay."

"Good." Mycroft said without hesitation. "Because our discussion and conversation means very little to me if all I'm going to find is trouble because of it. I don't want that to happen again."

"Understood, and I will do my best to prevent it, of course." Naomi replied.

"And your best will be enough?"

"Yes, it will."

She'd lapsed into silence, and Mycroft found himself glancing at her again, softening slightly. "While we're still on the subject, I'd like to…thank you again. For what you did."

"There is no need." Naomi said dismissively, turning her head from the view of the lake to catch his eye. "It was my fault you were taken, what I did was necessary."

"Whether you accept it or not doesn't matter, the fact is, I am grateful. It's certainly not every day one is resurrected. At least not in my work and life."

"It's not that common for me either." Naomi countered with a brief smile. "But if you're insisting, I will say you're welcome."

"A rather odd experience." Mycroft commented after a moment of walking. "I've always been under the belief that one simply ceases to exist after death."

"Your soul went to Heaven, yes. Filed away with the millions of other human souls that have deserved of eternal paradise."

"Well, I was still hoping that would be some time from now, I've got work to do…and a brother to watch out for." He said, the usual hesitation before a _sentimental_ confession. But he'd become more comfortable doing that with her, because she knew already.

"Naturally." Naomi replied with another brief smile. "Of course, I can extend your life, your brother's too. It's not something normally done, but I can make an exception."

Mycroft filed that information away for later consideration. "The evidence suggests you're a bit attached to me." He said after a moment. "The resurrection, and that offer."

"I assumed that would have been obvious by now." Naomi commented. "Yes, I'm a bit attached to you. You're…intriguing. And I do so love our conversations, I would miss them."

"Intriguing." Mycroft repeated. "You are as well, but you already knew that."

"Yes." She replied with another smile.

He paused, looking her over before continuing. "I have a proposition to make then. Two months from today, I have an event that I am to attend that falls on our usual day of conversation. A royal dinner party, various…important individuals will be there, and I've always gone alone." He paused again. "However, this time I'm wondering if you'd like to come along with me, our usual conversation, but in another settling."

Naomi slowed and considered that for a moment. "It's certainly not something I was planning on…but I think that'll do fine."

"Good, I'll make the arrangements." Mycroft said with a professional nod. "You'll need to show up at the usual time, I'll have my personal assistant help get you ready, and we'll go from there. Obviously, you'll need to act human, but you'll likely do just fine in that department."

"Get ready?" Naomi asked, her tone a mix of confused and annoyed.

"Yes, while you look very professional usually, these dinners require a different dress. There is no need to worry, I'll see to making sure everything will be there for you."

Naomi's mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile and she nodded. "Very well then, I accept your proposition. That's in two visits. I look forward to it."

"I do as well." And Mycroft felt the need to squeeze her hand. He turned back to the view and let his mind wander.


	12. 7 July 2007

**_7 July 2007_ **

Two months later, Naomi arrived at the specified time. While she looked very put together in her usual suit, it wasn't exactly the best attire for a royal dinner.

Anthea had taken the initiative and bought a dress for her, after Mycroft provided her approximate measurements. Minutes after Naomi had landed in the sitting room, Anthea was escorting her off to one of the bedrooms, as professionally as possible.

The PA had gotten the truth about who Naomi was just last month, and had taken it rather well, naturally. Mycroft had chosen her, after all. Despite her affinity technological distractions, which were a front to get people to underestimate her, she was very knowledgeable and talented. Top of her class at Oxford, and trained in self-defense, 'Anthea' was more than she seemed.

And it appeared that Naomi respected that. The woman and angel's interactions were friendly, and after an hour of preparation Naomi was ready to go.

Mycroft had been waiting, having eaten a bit after Naomi got there, and then went to his own room to get ready. He was wearing a simple but elegantly tailored black tuxedo, with a black bow tie, and currently stood in the front entry. The car was already pulled around the drive, waiting for them. He felt it more appropriate than flying in. Less likely to catch attention and he wasn't completely sure this was something to introduce to the people there.

Hands clasped behind his back, his eyes focused out the window when he heard sound of heels on the stairs and Naomi descended. The dress itself was a deep royal blue. Chiffon over silk, one shoulder strap and a modest neckline. It was nipped in at the waist and then flared out to just past knee length. Make-up was as it usually was, he wasn't going to ask how an angel kept up make-up, at least not today. Her hair fell in auburn waves over her shoulder, pinned back just on one side with a diamond clip. And a light silver chain with a circular diamond graced her neck. Her expression was the usual professionally pleasant, with the always present enigmatic and intriguing side.

All in all, a simply exquisite sight, if he let himself think that way. And certainly one he'd never seen her in before. He caught himself staring, and blinked several times before he cleared his throat. "Naomi…you look...stunning." He attempted, as professionally as possible, of course.

"Thank you." She replied, her smile soft as a hand smoothed lightly down the evening gown. "Your assistant is very knowledgeable in many areas, it seems."

"She is, however this is the first time I've needed to rely on her sense of woman's fashion." Mycroft quipped, offering his arm for her.

Naomi took it and stepped with him to the door. "I do believe I'm looking forward to this, it's been quite some time since I've interacted this closely with a group of humans."

Mycroft cocked a brow, glancing down at her as he opened the front door for the both. "And when was the last time? If you don't mind my asking."

"King Solomon had several events while I was in his company." Naomi said casually.

"You're referring to the figure from the Bible then." Mycroft said, not entirely sure he was surprised. But it still felt odd.

"Yes." She confirmed simply. "I rather enjoyed his company as well."

Mycroft was quite curious, but he would breach that subject another time. So he simply opened the car door for her. "I'll put that on the list of things to talk about in the future, for the moment…let's just enjoy the evening."

* * *

The dinner went well, Naomi was cordial, if a bit aloof. The prime minister was surprised to see Mycroft with a 'date', and commented as such. Mycroft didn't take offense, as it seemed to be a frequent comment for the few people who sought him out and felt brave enough to discuss the personal life of one Mycroft Holmes. No offense taken, except when one man's eyes hovered over Naomi for a bit longer than polite curiosity dictated. It was then he felt a strange sort of protectiveness, which he quickly dismissed as illogical and moved on.

He hadn't considered this a date when he'd first suggested it, but between their light conversation over dinner and her new dress, he wasn't too sure that it wasn't a date. She made him chuckle several times over dinner, and was very polite with everyone who introduced themselves. It was a stark contrast to the ferocity he'd seen while she fought and killed, angel or human.

For lack of a surname, she'd been dubbed Naomi White for the night. An American businesswoman acquaintance of his, if asked. Only lies had detail, so they kept everything quite vague. She hadn't eaten but a small portion of dinner, he deduced it was something to do with out it tasted to her and didn't question it. She'd drunk her entire glass of wine, however.

After dinner, and the usual speeches, Mycroft led Naomi away from the gathering of people visiting and to the gardens that surrounded the palace. Night had fallen, and the few stars that could make it through the light pollution of London peeked through a surprisingly cloudless night. The moon was on it's last quarter, hanging low in the sky.

He'd surprised himself with how much he enjoyed the evening. In between watching Naomi interact with the others, to the confused looks they'd given when he'd shown up with her, to their conversation that felt so natural at this point. Almost three years now, and he was comfortable. Every month he found himself not put out by the interruption, but rather looking forward to the afternoon of the seventh that was occupied by an angel. He glanced at her, and concealed a smile.

"You should know, I highly enjoyed your company tonight." Mycroft said as they walked, close but not touching. "I'm uncertain if you feel the same, considering the circumstances. I suppose it doesn't matter as you'd likely tell me if…" He trailed off in a moment of thought, unsure of how he wanted to word it.

"If what?" Naomi pressed, coming to a stop in the middle of the path and turning to face him.

"If you ever get bored of our chats." Mycroft said, meeting her eyes and pushing away the sheepish feeling he wasn't sure he liked at all.

"Highly unlikely." Naomi said, a smile turning the corners of her mouth. "It has been many centuries since I've found a human worth speaking to on this level, I won't be bored of you any time soon."

"I take that as a compliment." Mycroft replied with a small tilt of his head and a pleasant expression.

"It was." Naomi said, and after a slight pause she continued, keeping eye contact in the usual intense way. "Do you trust me?"

Mycroft gave her question serious consideration again, for it wasn't the first time she'd asked. Trust wasn't something to be given out without a second thought. It was valuable, and rare, But with the things that had happened, and the evidence laid before him, he replied, "Yes, I believe I do."

Naomi smiled at his answer, and simply stared at him for a short length of time. The darkness of the evening setting with the lights all around them made for a setting he had not even considered. And he could not read the expression on her face. But then she took a step closer to him and did something he did not expect.

Naomi took his head in both of her hands and kissed him gently.

Mycroft froze for the first few seconds, but gradually eased into the kiss. He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd gone with this sort of contact. Years, yes, but how many? He didn't miss it. Much like his brother, he set such things aside so that he could concentrate on work… but it wasn't exactly a distraction at this exact moment in time. Closing his eyes, a small frown of concentration creased his brow as he cupped her face with one hand and settled the other on her shoulder to steady himself.

She didn't keep contact long, and Mycroft took a moment to compose himself once Naomi broke the kiss. However, he didn't immediately let her go. The physical aspect of it had been familiar, almost instinctual, which was a relief as he was severely out of practice. But it still was very new with her. Blinking his eyes open, he took a minute to study her face.

"I am sorry if I acted impulsively. Was that alright?" Naomi asked, not moving from her place and studying him with keen blue eyes.

"That was…" Mycroft searched for the word, finding himself going blank at the moment. Unsettling, since he was usually excessively verbose. He cleared his throat. "Interesting? Perhaps that's too little…"

Without warning, Naomi interrupted him by moving in to kiss again, a bit more involved that the first one. She'd tilted her head and deepened the kiss, soft lips moving against his.

Mycroft was, if possible, even more surprised the second time around, but he reacted immediately. Cupping her face with both hands, he stroked her cheek with his thumb as she repeated the process. It was a new experience with her, or anyone in recent years, but he was a man of facts, and the fact was… he was enjoying it immensely. So, it was only logical to explore it further, wasn't it?

He was just getting lost in the feel of her when suddenly she pulled away. He blinked eyes open again, catching an enigmatic smile from his companion.

Naomi tilted her head slightly, the long auburn waves of her hair falling over her shoulder, blue eyes sparkling in the…wait, why was he thinking that? He cleared his throat again, trying to come back to the real world. "I suppose this is good night?"

"Yes, I think I've stayed long enough." Naomi said, taking another step away in her black heels. "Thank you for tonight, Mycroft, it was very…interesting."

"You're welcome. Until next time." Mycroft smiled softly, bowing his head the moment his angel date disappeared and he was left standing alone in the gardens with far too many thoughts.


	13. 7 August 2007

**_7 August 2007 Four PM_ **

The month in between the royal dinner and the next meeting had been a busy one. Many things to do, and Mycroft had been short on sleep most weeks, barely having a day to rest in the meantime. Not that he needed the rest. In between foreign riots and other elections, not to mention the new prime minister's frequent need to consult him, Mycroft had been swamped with things to do and plan.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and he'd pushed aside his date and subsequent kiss with Naomi aside for work instead. It was how he'd gone through his life. Effectively turning off all compromising emotion. Well, almost all, Sherlock did seem to be the exception. It worked best this way, and he wasn't about to change.

One thing he would admit to feeling, when he allowed himself to think about it, was confused. He was unsure of how it would change things. Was a kiss going to be a new normal between them? That hadn't been his intention at all…not that it was completely unwelcome. It was just odd. Not something he'd ever meant to bring into his life, he'd set any and all thought about emotional attachment aside for the purpose of work.

However, it wasn't going to be the normal emotional attachment he avoided, she was an angel. A timeless being he saw but once a month. Not a woman to wed, or spend copious amounts of time with. She was rare congenial company, it was fitting he'd appreciate that.

He was out of his depth, and speculating far more than he would have liked. There was no reason to, it could have just been a one time thing. It seemed appropriate for the setting they'd been in.

He dismissed all his thoughts when the usual flutter accompanied Naomi's arrival, and then smiled politely at his guest. "Hello, Naomi."

"Good afternoon, Mycroft." Naomi replied with her own polite smile. She was back to the usual wear, hair in a neat bun. But he did noticed the necklace that she still wore, the circular diamond resting on the crisp white dress shirt. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but dismissed it as well.

"Chess today?" Mycroft asked, fairly certain he was beginning to understand her usual routine with these visits. He appreciated an organized routine.

"I would like that yes, I'll set up the board." Naomi smiled again and then vanished, letting him finish their tea as she got the chess board set up.

When Mycroft walked into the sitting room with the tea tray, everything was ready. However, he didn't speak until he was handing her a tea cup and saucer and settling into his own chair. "Tea for you."

Naomi took the tea, leaning forward to take the first turn. "I'd like to thank you for inviting me along last month. The dinner was quite enjoyable." She said.

"I'm glad." Mycroft replied, setting his tea aside to take his own turn. "I found your company quite stimulating."

"Is this an annual event?"

"It happens on occasion, various times throughout the year, I don't attend them all."

"Perhaps next time I can join you again, even if it is not on our usual day." Naomi asked, glancing up from the board to meet his eyes. "If you'd like."

Mycroft hesitated, but gave a short nod, saying as non-eagerly as possible. "I wouldn't mind if you'd like to accompany me again."

She smiled, pausing briefly before asking, "What of the physical interaction we engaged in?"

He blinked a couple times, using the moment to think through an appropriate answer. "While…unexpected, it wasn't disagreeable. It's not something I've experienced in quite some time." He paused, studying her for a moment before staring down at the board to take his turn. "And you? I didn't realize that was something angels usually did."

This time Naomi hesitated, reaching a delicate hand to move her bishop. "It isn't, not for most. For me, it's a…curiosity, I suppose. And an experience to share, that I've do on occasion. It's not a necessity, and I don't let it be a weakness for me."

"A curiosity." He repeated and nodded once. "Understandable." He paused again. "Did you want to engage in that curiosity again, or was it a single event?"

Naomi smiled again. "Only if you wish, I do not wish to push you towards something you do not want or are not interested in."

Mycroft cleared his throat, as he took a moment to form his words. "I…do not think I would be opposed. I am not disinterested. I'd be willing, if you'd like to try again at another time, of course."

"That is good to hear. We can indulge in that experience again whenever you like."

Mycroft smiled amiably, pausing as he looked her over again. "We must seem very small to you." He commented, changing the subject slightly.

Her smile was soft, again. "I would say yes, humans do seem very small. But there are times when humans are simply… astounding, admirable, surprising, among other things. I respect that. That's why I'm here with you. See…I believe you and I are very similar."

Mycroft sat back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap. "Are we?"

"Ambitious, driven, preferring to work behind the scenes, dealing in information and protection of a greater group of individuals." Naomi listed off. "Similar."

"I believe you deal on a…much more encompassing field, and for a longer amount of time than I have, or will." Mycroft reasoned.

"Perhaps, but there is still things to learn. When one does something for so long, sometimes the art form is lost." She said, leaning back in her chair as well after she took her turn. "So I've enjoyed our discussion of your work."

"I do believe you're a bit less forthcoming about your work than I am about mine." Mycroft replied, taking his turn as well. He was losing already, not a surprise.

"Another thing we also have in common is the issue of doing whatever it takes to get a job done." Naomi said. "Some situations are not always as…pleasant to hear about."

"That doesn't mean we should not discuss them." Mycroft countered. "I'm not here to judge you, I do believe I said I trust you, that won't change unless you give me a reason to alter my belief. I'm simply curious."

"Perhaps at a later date." She replied. "I have thousands and thousands of years of experience, it's simply impossible to describe every aspect of my position."

"I look forward to it."

"Good." Naomi said, turning her attention back to the board as she took her next turn, stealing on his pieces. "I do believe you are losing again."

Mycroft gave her a bit of a look, raised brow and dubious expression, "I do believe you are correct. Hardly the first time though."

"No, it's not. I've found I enjoy this game. The strategy of it. Despite the pointless nature, it does occupy thought and time."

"It is strategy, and you learn very quickly, it seems. I do appreciate the challenging nature your competition brings. Every game is a learning experience."

"For both of us." Naomi said with a pleasant look.

Eventually though, the game was over and the tea was gone. The game had progressed to it's finish, Naomi winning in a quick cornering of his king with her queen and a knight. Their conversation was light, focusing on the more intricate parts of chess strategy. After all was said and done, she uncrossed her legs and stood up. "I believe our time is over for today, thank you for the game."

Mycroft stood as well, buttoning his tan suit coat and stepping around the table that held the board. He'd go over it later to learn for next time. Hands went to his sides. "You're welcome, until next time then?"

"Yes, I think we'll travel again next month." Naomi said with a smile, tilting her head slightly as she looked him over. "Is that aright with you?"

"Yes, of course…" He paused, debating whether or not he should ask, but after a moment continued, "I wonder if we might engage in that activity again. Right now. Compare to the last time, of course. Study the differences in location and attitude." He said, as professionally as possible. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he did want to kiss her again. He'd think on that later.

"If you wish, we may." She stepped closer to him, just an inch shorter than he was with her heels on, but she didn't initiate contact.

That left him the one to do it, and Mycroft was still out of practice initiating this sort of contact. He shifted closer, hesitating before he cupped her face with both hands and leaned down to kiss her.

He felt her hands brace against his chest almost immediately, and he committed the experience to memory in the seconds he held contact before breaking the kiss. It was soft, chaste, but felt like standing on the edge of a cavern looking out on a mysterious expanse. He'd think about that later as well. He took a breath in and opened his eyes again, meeting her blue ones. He let her go a moment later. "Invigorating, as the last time." He said simply. "Thank you."

"I'm glad it was satisfactory." Naomi replied, taking a quick second to smooth down his suit coat with one of her hands. She didn't step away, simply gave him another soft smile. "Good night, Mycroft."

And without waiting for a response, she was gone, vanishing into the air as she usually did. Mycroft felt a stir of the air and he put his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Good night, Naomi," he said, to the angel who wasn't there.


	14. 1 October 2008

**_1 October 2008_ **

Unbeknownst to Mycroft, supernatural activity was increasing worldwide. The breaking of the 66 seals would release Lucifer from the cage in Hell, and bring about the Apocalypse. Demonic activity would increase, angels would make themselves known on earth (or more than they had been). The world was going to end if Lucifer escaped and fought Michael in an epic battle that pitted brother against brother.

Or at least that's what Mycroft would learn later. For the moment, he was in his office in central London. He was working. It was just another day, another month, another year, in the life of Mycroft Holmes.

He heard a knock on the door and offered a 'come in', even as he was still focused on the bit of information he was analyzing and typing out. He glanced up at the guest, making the first initial deductions and then smiling in a way that would be viewed as polite.

It was Daniel Simmons, a relatively young politician who made an appearance every once and a while to ask stupid questions. But at least he was generally polite. Mycroft sniffed once and straightened in his chair. "Mr. Simmons, can I help you?"

Simmons closed the door, earning another aloof sniff from Mycroft, and came to a stop in front of the desk. "Hello sir, I might enquire if I can have a moment of your time."

Mycroft shifted in his chair again. Something was off, but he couldn't quite pin it down. "You're already taking a moment of my time, please hurry up."

Simmons smiled, something a bit more dangerous than he usually did, and took a step aside as if to walk around the desk. Which is what he'd end up doing. "See," he said, "I have a partner. And he needs you specifically."

"And what does-" Mycroft didn't get the chance to finish before Simmons moved supernaturally fast to his chair. A strong hand clamped on his neck, squeezing enough to be painful but not enough to cut off his air. Mycroft gasped slightly, wide eyes meeting the young man's with momentary confusion.

Simmons leaned in with a sneer, eyes flitting completely black in a way that was certainly not normal. "Don't worry, just stay right there, I'll bring him in."

"You…unhand me…" Mycroft struggled, however the training he'd received seemed useless against the much stronger individual. He grappled for his phone, only to have it grabbed out of his hand and thrown across the room. A swirling cloud of black smoke entered the room through a vent, and he struggled to comprehend it all in the face of what he was experiencing.

The smoke did one twist in the air and then dove for him. However, at the last second it veered off and went back to the corner with a barely audible shriek. Simmons' black eyes turned between the two of them. "Protected?!" He snarled, gripping Mycroft's throat a little tighter. "What…"

Mycroft's suspicions were confirmed, and he did something he'd been hesitating to do, but which now felt extremely necessary. He gasped out the name as he prayed. "Na-omi."

The urgency must have been noted, because not a second later Naomi landed in the room. Expression furious and angel blade out, she was a sight to behold as the sky darkened out the window. The demon let go of Mycroft immediately, every visible sign pointing to his fear of the angel. The smoke, which could only be another demon without a host, tried to escape. But Naomi put a hand out to stop it. A squeeze, and the smoke swirled down and through the floor to destination unknown.

Simmons, or more accurately the demon inside the young man, stammered a series of uncertainties as he backed himself up in a literal corner. "You're….no…what did…you can't be.…"

"Just stop, _filth_." Naomi interrupted him with a condescending look. She disappeared and reappeared behind him, stabbing the blade through the demon's back. Simmons stiffened and gasped, as people usually did when they were stabbed. But the unnatural glow that flashed a few times as the demon died wasn't. Mycroft noted it with all the other occurrences that happened during his time with Naomi.

By the time Naomi had killed the demon, and sent the other one away, Mycroft had recovered. He hadn't moved from his chair, in order to stay out of harm's way. A series of adjustments on his suit, a quick rub of his neck, a clearing of his throat, and a steepling of his hands left him sitting very quietly by the time all was said and done. He spoke first, even as the body dropped. "Thank you."

Naomi's eyes met his and she nodded once. "You're welcome."

"Any reason that just happened?" He asked. He could deduce, but he usually preferred to hear it from her, as his experience in this 'supernatural' world was limited.

"I'd wager they were attempting to establish a demon high in your government. You're obviously the most strategic choice." Naomi answered, putting her bloodied silver blade away to where it stayed.

"Which is why you've protected me from being possessed." Mycroft concluded, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his desk. "You hadn't told me you did that."

"Precautionary measures only, based on the sheer amount of information you have, it would be….illogical to leave you susceptible to possession." Naomi said, settling herself in one of the chairs across his desk. All trace of the terrifying ferocity gone from her face.

"How?" Mycroft asked.

"Etchings on your rib cage, a couple years ago now." She answered.

He nodded. "Good to know."

Naomi watched him a moment in the usual unreadable intensity, before speaking again. "Perhaps I should have told you. Next time I act on something similar, I will."

"I understand the need to keep information safe, but I'd appreciate full disclosure next time." Mycroft said, with a bit of caution. The angel just had killed one of the many underlings that ran around the building. Not that he didn't trust her to not kill him, he just preferred less collateral damage.

"Noted." She replied impassively.

"What of….Mr Simmons?" He asked, with a quick nod towards the body. "He can't be left here. Despite my position, I'd rather not be suspect in a murder, or even considered as one."

"I'll deposit him elsewhere." Naomi said, her tone suggesting she had little care for the human casualty. "There was nothing I could do for him."

"Right." He said, leaning back in his seat again. "Thank you, again. You responded quickly, I hate to think of what would have happened otherwise."

"You're welcome." Naomi said again, changing the subject slightly. "I can't stay much longer, but I'll be around next week as usual."

"I look forward to it." Mycroft said, offering her an amiable smile.

Naomi met his smile with one of her own, and then vanished with the dead body in a flutter of feathers.


	15. 7 March 2010

_7 March 2010, Four PM_

Mycroft felt the difference that the next year and a half brought. Naomi had been busy with 'The Apocalypse' and all the extra duties she had because of it. She didn't talk about it often, aside from briefly explaining that there were angel armies to command and control in addition to her usual flow of information and intelligence, which kept her busier than normal.

Mycroft hadn't been exempt either. Between the increasing number of natural disasters, the panic of various governments, and the fact that angels and demons were causing insurmountable trouble around the world, his job was essential to maintaining control.

Something else had changed in their interactions. Naomi hadn't kissed him in a year and a half. He nearly got the feeling that she'd…backed off, as they say. It wasn't something he would dwell on, it just surprised him how disappointed he was about it. The reason didn't escape him, however. The Apocalypse. A long war between various supernatural entities that would end the world as humans knew it and start a sort of Heaven on Earth. Despite that…Mycroft was quite sure that it was the last thing he wanted. He hadn't planned for that. He didn't want to be a casualty in a war he wasn't able to control.

The angel still was coming on her usual visits, staying the usual amount of time. The conversations focused mainly on his work, with a bit of a tie in of her own with the current situation. They debated the Apocalypse on occasion, but her answer was always the same. She couldn't do anything about it, so could only protect him. And even that wasn't a guarantee. So Mycroft had put it all aside, storing their few physical interactions in his mind and moving on. Hardly the first time, he did have work to do after all.

In the middle of it all Sherlock was still running around London solving crimes and being a general nuisance. It wasn't a bad thing, but it did mean increased security measures for his little brother in the middle of the coming Apocalypse.

All that culminated to Mycroft's stress level increasing dramatically. Needless to say, it'd been a difficult year and half since this whole thing started.

Today was the seventh again, and the cool spring air was properly shut outside while he spent the afternoon in his warm house. Tea was brewed, suit was adjusted, and soon he'd be playing host to an angel.

At the usual time, Naomi landed and after the usual greeting they were settled in with tea in the usual chairs. No chess today, they wouldn't have time. She took a sip first and then spoke. "I apologize, as usual I will not be staying long today."

Mycroft nodded his acknowledgement. "It's just as well, I have an appointment in an hour and a half with the prime minister."

Naomi was quiet a moment, expression unreadable as she studied him. "I am afraid I should…explain myself."

"Go ahead." Mycroft said after a moment, lowering his tea cup.

"Your world is going to end," Naomi started impassively. "And I cannot change the path it has been set on. My orders are coming from the archangels themselves."

"Yes, we've discussed that-"

"However," Naomi interrupted him. "I am not unopposed to the entire thing. This would bring order to Earth's chaos, peace, Heaven on earth."

"Apparently." Mycroft said dryly. "But get the feeling that it's going to be a very painful process to get to that point."

"Millions will die. Thousands already have." She confirmed.

"It's fine, you've already said there's nothing you can do to stop it, I'm hardly going to change that fact."

Naomi paused, studying him a moment. "I am sorry our interactions have changed, I was not anticipating this in the beginning. If I had, I might have acted differently."

"Like not intervene at all? Sherlock would be dead, at least he had these six years." He paused to take a sip. "Nevertheless, your shortened time here is understandable, your workflow has increased. And as I am due to die here soon, it's understandable you do not wish to put time and effort into this."

"I am…attempting to ensure that doesn't happen."

"But it will happen. Heaven on Earth, the end of the world? Doesn't that mean everyone is set to die?" He challenged lightly.

Naomi's face hardened just noticeably. "Yes. And it will take several years to fully defeat Lucifer once he acquires his vessel. In the meantime he will reign chaos over the earth. Millions will die." She paused, her expression softening. "And I regret that I cannot do anything about it. Because I had wished to continue our interactions, to progress them further over the years."

"Progress them?" Mycroft asked, turning his head slightly as he regarded her again.

"It does not matter." She replied impassively. "For it shall never be. For the moment, I will do my best to protect you. But if such a response has me going against my orders or I am unable to send someone to save you, I am afraid you will die."

"That is regretful indeed." He responded, just as impassively. "I can expect these interactions to continue until that time then?"

"Yes."

"Then there's something, at least."

* * *

There conversation continued for another half hour or so, discussing various things that the coming months and years would bring. But eventually it was time to leave and Naomi spread her wings and vanished. She landed back in Heaven, in her office. A quick wave of her hand voided any colors from the wall, leaving it a stark white. Blank, like her mood.

She folded her dark grey wings and closed her eyes, letting the light wash over her. She had work to do, angels to keep on the right path, information to sort through. It was never ending. She did not know what lay in store after the Apocalypse was through, but she did know everything would be in order. She preferred order to chaos. And despite knowing the chaos that would be Lucifer's doing, she craved the peace and order that would reign after.

 _If_ Michael won, of course. If he didn't, she was surely going to die, as one of the highest ranking angels backing Michael and Raphael. Executed, more than likely. It was a worry she'd never let herself dwell on because it was completely frightening. If she was being honest, she feared death above all else, even above chaos.

But it wasn't going to happen, the Apocalypse would progress, Michael would beat Lucifer, and Heaven would be on Earth. That was how the story had been written, after all.

Then there was Mycroft. She allowed herself to dwell on him just a moment. A human, not so simple as the rest of them, but an interesting one. Intriguing. One she found it very difficult not to want to protect completely and totally.

Impossible though. And it hurt to be caught like she was. Being pulled two different directions like this.

Mycroft Holmes would die. Whether from a demon attack, a natural disaster, or the plague that would be released over the earth by Lucifer. Perhaps his soul would go to Heaven, but it would not be the same interaction, and he'd likely never want to see her again.

Completely understandable, and unavoidable. Which means Naomi would move past it. She would continue her task, her duty, her mission, her job. One human would not stand in the way of Heaven's intention. No matter how much he might mean to her at the moment in time.

With a deep sigh, Naomi sat down at her desk and pulled out her tool, turning it over in her hands in a moment of thought. She set it down and turned eyes forward. She had work to do.


	16. 7 June 2010

_7 June 2010 Three Fifty-Five PM_

The end to the Apocalypse came as a bit of a shock to just about everyone. When the world was ending by divine forces, one would think that it would simply continue, rather than stop suddenly. But that is what happened. Sam and Dean Winchester threw off the entire parade and the angels were left scrambling. With Gabriel dead, and Michael trapped in the cage, Heaven was left to Raphael to rule.

Naomi and Raphael had always been close. She'd been hand chosen by him to step into her position thousands and thousands of years ago. This was actually better for her than what they'd just been through. Upon the absence of Michael, Naomi took on many new responsibilities and became more the advisor she liked being. Raphael sought her knowledge frequently.

And while this left her a bit busier than she had been, it was less chaotic than the Apocalypse. Changes could be made, both in Heaven as well as in the Host. Still, she would be able to take time for herself in these little visits.

She hadn't had time to go see Mycroft since the end of the end, but arrived as usual on the seventh of June a few weeks after. Folding dark grey wings, she smiled politely at her host. "Hello Mycroft."

He'd been walking from the center of the house towards the kitchen, but stopped and turned when she spoke. She noted the fairest of smiles in return and he slipped his hands into his trousers. "Naomi, you're just a bit early again."

"I wanted to catch you, I wish to travel again today."

"I'm sure that can be arranged, will I need my coat?" Mycroft asked.

"Not today." Naomi stepped up to him and offered her hand. He hesitated, but took hers, the warm contact being the first physical contact she'd had with anyone in recent months. Angel sense and she could feel his every cell at work, his neurons firing, his heartbeat, everything that made him human and alive. She smiled slightly, something she knew he wouldn't be able to deduce. Without a warning, she opened her wings and flew them off.

She landed them on the west coast of the United States. A walking trail along Monterey Bay in central California. She enjoyed the mountains, being at a greater elevation. But there was beauty and mystery to be found in the great expanse of the ocean. She had always appreciated aesthetics, whether it was color or picture or sound.

And it was a beautiful thing she'd gotten very good at taking away from other angels. But never mind that. She had work to focus on, there was no time for regrets.

Naomi kept Mycroft's hand in hers and started walking along the trail. "You likely have inferred this, but the Apocalypse is over and will not begin anew."

"I deduced something occurred, I was not sure of it's exact nature." Mycroft stood along next to her and their usual pace. "I would be lying to say that I am not glad to hear that."

"I would be lying as well." Naomi confessed, speaking again after a moment of silence. "It was never in my plan to usher in the new world right now, there is still much to do."

Mycroft gave her the usual look, contemplating and curious. She visibly ignored it, as usual, instead smiling and continuing. "With the events that took place, and the lives lost, I've assumed more power and responsibility. However, I will not be forsaking our usual time of discussion."

"Can I expect something similar to previous years?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Then I look forward to it." He said, lapsing into another thoughtful silence. She noted his gaze wandered over the early morning waters of the Pacific Ocean, and instead of joining him, she kept her eyes on his profile.

After a moment, she spoke again. "I wish to apologize."

His blue eyes met hers and he took a second to decide what the apology was for, but he got it, because he was very good. "There is no need. I've been through it multiple times, and would say I may have done the same."

"I still apologize for the distance, I enjoy spending time with you, it wasn't pleasant having to back away even slightly. Despite the reason for it."

"So you're settling into your new duties now?" Mycroft said after a moment changing the subject.

"Yes, the new head of Heaven is someone I am close to, and we will be implementing some changes. I am currently his second in command and closest advisor, at least behind the scenes." Naomi said, keeping it vague. Some matters of Heaven were difficult to discuss, and one never know who might be listening.

"I knew you had status, but I was not aware of the exact measure." Mycroft commented. He was quiet another moment and she waited for him to continue. "And yet you elect to continue this sort of interaction. Even 'progress' it, whatever that means."

"There are very few things I enjoy outside of my job. Intelligent conversation and satisfying curiosity is one of those things." Naomi replied.

"Hmm, I still find that odd." Mycroft said, his eyes turning back to the ocean.

Naomi smiled at him, even thought he couldn't see. "Someday you'll understand."

"Perhaps I will." Another pause. "Are we going to discuss your work in detail at a point. Is that part of your 'progress'?"

She paused, contemplating how much she could share with him, and how much she felt comfortable sharing. "We can. You are correct. Sharing a bit more of me with you would be a method of progression."

"You've been fairly vague thus far, and we discuss my work in depth." He met her eyes again.

"Maybe would consider my methods… tyrannical. I don't discuss it often." Naomi started. "But I've done what's most efficient and necessary to protect my home, even if it means being less than kind. Thus I prefer to work behind the scenes, for my own safety."

"You…'fix' angels, yes?"

"That would be correct, manipulating and deletion of memories to provide better obedience. It is necessary to have an army ready to fight and do whatever is necessary."

"It takes away their individuality, as well as gets rid of certain events they might not need to remember."

"Yes." Naomi nodded again. "Horrific events, the slaughter of humans happens to be one of those things that requires wiping from memories."

"Understandably so, I doubt many would want to remember that."

"If they did, there would be an uprising against Heaven's leaders." She slowed at an overlook, stopping to turn towards the ocean. "Angels are marble statues, cold and unfeeling, doing what needs doing in the name of our Father and the Archangels." She paused. "But they are that way because _I_ made them that way. The balance of the realms would be thrown into chaos otherwise."

Mycroft didn't speak for a moment, his free hand in his trouser pocket and his head shifting through the revealed information. "It is…understandable. What you do. You're doing what you need to for your Heaven and the Earth."

"Yes, I am."

"Your regard for human life seems a bit…lacking, but what are we in the span of eternity? We must seem very small to you." He'd said those words before, she remembered.

"At times." She conceded. "But other times, most certainly not. Sometimes the influence of one or two humans can disrupt Heaven's will completely. The smallest act of love can disrupt thousands of years of planning. And sometimes the intrigue of one human can capture the attention of an angel."

Mycroft might have smiled, she wasn't looking. But he did squeeze her hand. "Noted."

"Do you still trust me?" Naomi asked, turning away from the morning ocean view to study his face.

He met her eyes and hesitated but then nodded. "Yes, I do."

And just like the first time she asked, Naomi stepped up and caught him in a gentle kiss. Her free hand going to hold onto the lapel of his jacket and pull him a bit closer. It was brief, more of an expression of gratitude than anything else. She smiled once she pulled away. "I'm glad."

Mycroft, visibly caught off guard, straightened up and returned the smile. "To progress, then."

"Indeed."


	17. 7 February 2011

_7 February 2011 Three-Fifty-Eight PM_

The next eight months went by in a bit of a blur. Naomi came by as usual, and their conversation felt a bit more normal as opposed to stressed. She was again interested in sharing some of the things she was working on, as well as asking questions about his life. They were connecting, and similar in so many ways, so it was very easy to converse and discuss things.

Mycroft wasn't sure why, but he enjoyed this much better. No impending threat of complete world destruction, that was probably the reason. His work was still a bit stressful though, as they tried to clean up the mess that that not-apocalypse made. He enjoyed her company nevertheless. That was something he wasn't entirely sure he understood, but accepted anyways.

It was on their usual meeting day, planned for a game of chess and a glass of wine, that Mycroft found himself in the kitchen selecting the proper vintage. But instead of hearing the usual flutter of wings, Mycroft caught the sound of footsteps on the varnished wood floors. Dress shoes, not heels. Which means he knew _exactly_ who his unexpected guest was. And he released a sigh.

"Brother dear." Sherlock greeted as he walked into the kitchen. "It appears I was right."

"Congratulations." Mycroft said dryly, but flashed a polite smile. "About what?"

"I know I'd find you in the kitchen."

This prompted a subtle eye roll, and Mycroft turned his attention back to the wine choices, going so far as to extract one from the selection. "All pleasantries aside, what do you want?"

"I need a car. It's for a case." Sherlock said.

"Oh? I actually get asked this time, instead of you just stealing it."

Sherlock wasn't phased by the subtle snark. "I need it now, I don't have time to wait for the opportune time to steal one of your fleet."

Mycroft fixed him with a deductive look, trying to determine why Sherlock needed a car. "Really? This couldn't have waited—"

Mycroft was then interrupted by the sound he actually wanted to hear, and Naomi landed in the kitchen. She glanced between the two men, expression angelically unreadable but polite. "My apologies, am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all." Mycroft said, turning and smiling warmly at his guest.

Sherlock gave her a wary look as his gaze shifted from his brother. "Naomi." He said professionally, as it had been several years since he'd seen her. "I'd forgotten what day it was, apparently."

"Obviously." Mycroft said lightly. "Now, Sherlock, you may take the car and leave. Keys will be in the usual place."

"You know, I'd nearly deleted your little friend." Sherlock said, obviously not intimidated by the fact that she was an angel and could rip him apart if she wanted to. "Funny, isn't it."

Naomi's expression didn't change, and Sherlock decided there was no reason to stay and interrupt further. Besides, he had a case to get on. He disappeared out the door with nothing more than a sniff.

Mycroft sighed and turned his attention back to pick up the tea set. "My apologies for my brother."

"Not a problem, I have quite a few brethren that are more ill-behaved." Naomi replied back with an enigmatic smile, but didn't go further into detail.

Mycroft and Naomi's visit went much the same as it always did, she stayed nearly three hours that day to discuss a variety of things, mostly centering on her 'ill-behaved brethren' in comparison to Sherlock. Amusing to say the least. At quarter to seven that night she said her goodbyes and then disappeared in a flutter of feathers, promising another month.

And it was a quiet few hours later, when Mycroft was on his way to get ready for bed, that Sherlock showed up again.

Mycroft was standing from his desk in his study, having dressed down in the evening to just his dress-shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Sherlock breezed into the study and tossed the keys back to his brother. "It needs petrol." He said by way of greeting.

"You could have left the keys downstairs, brother dear."

"Not as satisfying as tossing them to you, I'm afraid."

Mycroft tapped fingers on his thigh and headed for the door. "Is there a reason you came up to see me instead of scampering off to that dingy thing you call a home?"

"Deductions." Sherlock quipped back. "How was your little visit?"

"Just the same as it always is. I doubt you'd be interested in the topics of conversation."

"I'm more interested in the fact itself, rather than what you talk about."

Mycroft sighed, shutting the study door behind them both and leading the way back to the stairs. "That I'm still entertaining an angel? Yes, I suppose that's interesting enough."

"The fact that I think you're actually _enjoying_ it." Sherlock clarified. "I find that fascinating."

"Of course you do." Came the sarcastic reply.

Sherlock smirked and headed towards the front door once they were down from the stairs. "Do enjoy, brother dear. I'm sure I'll figure out your little…connection eventually. You should know that secrets don't stay secret for long with me."

Mycroft released another sigh at his brother's departure. Difficult child, _petulant_ child, but he cared far too much about him. At least there was an angel as back up, Sherlock needed all the help he could get.

The coming months would progress much the same. Naomi would come visit. They'd talk, _connect,_ and enjoy the short time they allowed for each other. The short time of intellectual stimulation and intrigue. Perhaps it may have been a distraction from work. But they were so similar and equally curious, that neither of them minded. Because as much as their conversations may have been a distraction, they were also eye-opening, and a reprieve from the difficult nature of their lives.

Those months would also be a sort of progress, change even. And eventually they'd make a decision that would change their partnership for the rest of their lives.


	18. 7 October 2011

_7 October 2011, Nine PM_

Five hours had flown by while they'd been in deep discussion. A bottle of wine and three games of chess gone in that time. Naturally, Naomi had won two out of the three matches. After the final game, Mycroft had invited Naomi to take a short walk through the gardens of his large estate.

Their discussions and time together had gotten longer, aside from a few times where one or both of them had to run off for work related things. Not that they'd admit it outright, but both enjoyed it immensely. It'd nearly been seven years of this tradition. In between chess at Mycroft's home and the traveling they did, even the chaste kisses goodbye, it was a completely unique situation. And never boring.

The gardens were quiet, the moon rising just above the trees that surrounded the extensive estate. The path was lighted with little solar lanterns, so it wasn't completely dark outside. It was a beautiful autumn night. And Mycroft's thoughts were drifting.

"Well this has been an invigorating evening." Mycroft commented after a few minutes of comfortable silence. He glanced at her, resisting the odd urge to take her hand. "Truly."

"I am glad you enjoyed it." Naomi replied. "I particularly enjoyed the trip to Venice last month, but tonight has been most enjoyable. Your perspective on aesthetics and the concept of beauty is rather interesting."

"Logically based, of course." Mycroft said with a nod.

"Naturally."

There was silence for another few moments and Mycroft took a quick peek at her, holding out his hand as they walked through the gardens. "I do enjoy your company, no matter what we are discussing, Naomi."

"I know." Naomi took the hand that was offered, slipping hers into his. She was quiet for a long moment before she spoke again. "If you ever wish my company in…. _another_ manner, a more _intimate_ matter. I am willing, all you need do is ask."

"Another manner." Mycroft repeated quietly, studying her for a clue. He slowed them down and turned to face her, stopping in the middle of the path. He could draw conclusions, but as always, he wasn't absolutely sure. Not with her. Some things still escaped him. "What do you mean?"

Naomi tilted her head slightly, as if deciding what to do exactly, and in a simple motion, she leaned in and kissed him, one hand resting lightly on his chest. Understanding was quick, and he moved his free hand to hold the behind her neck, deepening the kiss with more enthusiasm than he even expected from himself. The kiss was more than what they usually shared, beyond the usual intensity, and his thoughts were rushed with her. His angel, who, over the years, had formed an odd friendship with him.

Friendship, yes, if that's how he had to describe it. Someone to talk to, that could keep up with him, no matter what she'd done, he knew she was not going to hurt him. His thoughts raced, but soon an unusual feeling filled his mind, and he deduced she was linking with him on more than just a physical level.

He'd barely noticed initially, but she had transported them up to his bedroom, must have been skimming his thoughts for they'd never been on that floor together. After a moment, he pulled away to catch his breath, opening eyes and giving Naomi an uncharacteristically sheepish smile. "Is…" he cleared his throat, his voice low, "is this alright?"

"Only if you wish. This type of intimacy is for you. A gift, so to say. Not that I won't enjoy it as well." Naomi said, her smile enigmatic and her fingers gentle on his neck. "Do you wish to continue?"

"I do." Mycroft frowned slightly in a moment's thought, moving his hands to smooth down her sides. "I should tell you, however, that it's been a… a very long time… for me." He met her eyes, hesitating briefly. "In case that matters."

"I can guarantee, it's been much longer for me." Naomi replied, removing her arms from around his neck and instead reaching to loosen his tie. "In case that matters." She echoed as she gently worked on the expensive maroon silk.

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Mycroft said, studying her for a moment, hesitating again. Soon though, he slipped hands under her jacket and pushed it off her shoulders. The gray jacket fell to the ground, forgotten as her fingers moved to his black suit jacket and waistcoat buttons. Those hit the floor as well, and he found himself really not caring about the expensive suit in a wrinkled pile. There were other things on his mind.

They took their time undressing, in between slow kisses and steady fingers, and eventually, Naomi was pushing Mycroft back towards the bed in nothing but their undergarments. She guided him to sit, and then stood in front of him, using a hand to cup his cheek. She smiled down at him, and not for the first time but certainly one of the only times he decided to acknowledge it, he was struck by her beauty. An attractive human vessel of course, he knew that, but it was more the look on her face, the intelligence behind the blue eyes. Willing her closer, he took action and reached for her other hand, pulling her to straddle his lap. He cleared his throat softly. "You…you are very beautiful, Naomi."

"Thank you, Mycroft." The angel's smile widened and she cupped his face with both of her hands, even as his wandered over her warm skin. "That is what my name means. The name I was given before time began, _Naomi_. Beautiful, pleasant, agreeable." She leaned in and kissed him briefly, lingering. Her next words were soft, a confession. "It has been a very long time since I've felt that way."

"It suits you, at least from my perspective." Mycroft said in quiet confidence, his hands gently smoothing up till they came into contact with the lacy fabric of her white bra. And it was there he hesitated. He was sorely out of practice in this sort of event, it'd been decades. And he felt the unfortunate feeling of nervousness settle over him.

Naomi's blue eyes studied him for a bit, as if seeing all the way into his mind. She asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I think so." He replied, self-examining himself to make sure that he wanted this. "Just a bit…out of practice. The nervousness will pass. Likely if we continue and I don't have time to think too much."

"Good." Simple verbal response, because soon she was kissing him again and pressing him back so that he was laying down with her hovering overtop. In that moment, he was already lost. Done thinking about anything else besides her.

It was a thrilling activity, though Mycroft was sure there were several other words that could (and likely should) take its place, but nevertheless, it was. Moving together, learning about each other in an entirely new way, the vulnerability, the intimacy, the pleasure. He lost himself in the intriguing sensation that was Naomi, Angel of the Lord, his _friend_.

A while later, both he and Naomi found themselves tangled in the sheets next to each other, their clothes still laying in a scattered mess across the floor.

Mycroft stared up at the ceiling, thinking not seeing. The whole experience had been exhilarating, invigorating, and more fun than he could remember. It had its practical benefits, certainly, but there were others as well… and he didn't care to analyze all of that at the moment. He was calm, and oddly relaxed being in such close proximity to Naomi. So he turned his head to look at her. "How are you feeling?"

Eyes opened to meet his and a slow smile spread across her face as she lay on her side on the pillow next to him. "Content. Calm." She said immediately. "That was well executed, by the way, considering your nervousness."

"Good." Mycroft said, coming off a bit proud, because he was. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Naomi smiled softly at him, taking a moment to just be there. Her hand went and gently touched his face, fingers light on his cheek. He couldn't really pinpoint the look in her eyes, which was both frustrating and quite attractive, if he let himself admit that. She leaned in not a moment later and kissed him softly, gently. Pulling away, she propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. "I have to leave, but you should know, I wouldn't mind doing that again sometime."

"I would like that." Mycroft smiled slightly, an anticipatory one, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Until the usual time then."

"As always." Naomi said, moving in to give him another long lingering kiss. In the moment she pulled away, she was already sliding off the bed and moving to gather her clothes.

He knew she knew he was watching her, but he couldn't stop it. He was fairly certain she was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in a long time. Whether it be her power, her intelligence, or her physical beauty, he couldn't distinguish it exactly. A slow smile spread across his face as he watched until she was fully dressed again. Her eyes met his and she mirrored his smile, holding the moment. Then she was gone, vanishing into the air with the usual flutter of feathers.

Mycroft relaxed back on the bed again, something deep inside him wishing she'd stayed just a bit longer or even came more often, but he dismissed that. Those thoughts were distracting for his work. He could sacrifice a couple hours a month to them, but everything else took precedence the rest of the time. Still…he allowed himself, the great Mycroft Holmes, to dwell on the _sentiment_ for the time until he eventually drifted off to sleep.


	19. 7 November 2011

_7 November 2011, Four PM_

Mycroft spent the next month working far too much to even stop and think about his latest encounter with Naomi. As pleasant as it was, planning the next few steps in dealing with the situation that was James Moriarty had taken complete precedence.

Things were culminating. Events were in motion that put Sherlock in danger, as well those he cared about. Mycroft wasn't too concerned with them himself, but because they mattered to Sherlock, he'd do everything he possibly could to ensure that John Watson and the others were safe.

Meticulous planning, long hours, playing the game from behind the scenes as Sherlock fought on the front lines. That was the majority of Mycroft's extra hours aside from his usual work. So inevitably, things that were not important to think about were put away.

He wouldn't say he necessarily forgot she was coming at the usual time on the usual day of the month. But it hadn't been something he'd been consciously remembering in the forefront of his mind. So when she landed in his study, he looked up from his laptop with an expression that must have betrayed that slip.

Naomi smiled softly at him, settling herself into the chair that was across from his desk. "Hello Mycroft. I take it I've interrupted a busy day?"

"Yes," Mycroft cleared his throat and sat back. "Just…working. My apologies, I did remember, but I'm afraid I might have lost track of time."

"That was obvious." But her voice was slightly teasing, if that were possible. "I can leave, if you are busy, return again next month as usual."

"Not at all." He insisted, moving his laptop out of the way. "It's likely time for a break anyways. Since it's four o'clock and I haven't had lunch."

"Then shall we go out?" Naomi asked.

Mycroft hesitated, but nodded his agreement. Naomi whisked them off to a quiet little seaside town in Maine. Where in, she acquired them two glasses of wine and croissant with meat and cheese. Soon they were seated at a small table in an outdoor patio. Naomi's blue eyes were focused on him. Analyzing him. He'd taken a couple bites already, finishing with a sip of the wine.

Mycroft felt something akin to awkwardness. It was odd, and something he wasn't accustomed to. More than likely due to the activities of the last month. For lack of a 'morning after', and no time to properly process everything to the full extent. But he was nothing if not pragmatic. "Thank you." He said first, gesturing with his wine glass. "For lunch."

"Not a problem." Naomi said, offering a small polite smile. "Humans do need sustenance, and you enjoy the sensation of consuming food, do you not?"

"Yes." He drug out the vowel in an awkward pause.

Naomi's focus was entirely on him. Quietly analyzing even as she spoke next. "Did you wish to talk about last month?"

Mycroft straightened in his seat, folding his hands in his lap. "If you wish. You're difficult to deduce, as you know, I am uncertain how to proceed. Or more accurately, as you want to proceed."

"I enjoy your company. It's a reprieve from my work, and as long as your identity remains secret, I don't mind leaving to come visit you." Naomi said. "As for physical interactions, that is a gift to you. I enjoy the exploration into the more…human experiences that this body can provide. But it is not a necessity where I am concerned."

"Right." Mycroft said shortly, lapsing into a more thoughtful silence. "I would like to try again sometime, as I said. If you enjoy it and are curious, I think that's a logical reason to continue."

"Naturally." She replied, "I would like that."

"I wasn't aware…angels did that sort of thing." Mycroft commented.

"It happens, on occasion. For various reasons. Mine is simple curiosity, and as I said, a gift to you. I appreciate your company. I appreciate _you_ immensely."

Mycroft blinked several times in what was a Holmsian way. Sometimes, he found himself forgetting she was thousands of years old and a divine being, but he remembered it right now. And the fact that she was… _appreciating_ him rather than simply enjoying the company. That was new as well. He wasn't a man of many personal connections, man, woman, or supernatural being.

Aside from Naomi. This had slipped from something that was mandatory and business-like, to something entirely personal. Logical as well, because she was interesting company. Not a goldfish.

He drew his thoughts back to the present and blinked again. "Well then, I'm not terribly sure what to say. Other than that I am a willing participant in your continued visitation. But, I do have a request."

"Not something you do often." She commented, but gestured to have him continue.

"Recently, very recently as a matter of fact, I've been working with Sherlock. We're preparing him for a period of time where he's going to be in dangerous situations. Essentially taking down a criminal network that encases much of Europe by himself. And while I'm confident he has the fortitude and skill to succeed….I worry about him." Mycroft paused. "I'd like to ask if you'd be willing to…keep an eye on him. And answer a prayer if he does…pray for help."

Naomi's gazed was intense and her expression unreadable. But she nodded. "I can delegate that task actually. We won't interfere, or assist, because that's not our battle. Only if he's not going to survive. Is that acceptable?"

"I'll ask nothing more." Mycroft replied professionally. But he lost that stoicism a moment later. "I can't lose him. Sherlock means the world to me."

Naomi's hands fidgeted a bit in her lap, barely noticeable. "You have my word, Mycroft, I'll have an angel watching over him."

"Thank you." His words were heavy with honest gratitude.

Her fidgety hands stilled, and reached over to take one of his. Her hand was soft and comforting in his and she squeezed just gently. "Would you like to take a walk?" She asked.

"Yes, I think I'd like that." His voice returned to the usual, without a trace of brotherly compassion and sentimentality he hid so well.

She stood first, using their joined hands to help him out of his chair. Whispers of feathers accompanied their departure and they found themselves along the ocean in the same little town. She kept a hold of his hand and settled into an easy walk down a well-worn path. Today there was little conversation, only a comfortable silence as they walked. And Mycroft found it so. Comfortable, as well as _comforting_. His work was high stress, but there were ways of managing it. He had welcomed time with Naomi into his regiment.

The ocean breeze, with the chill in the air, and the soft hand in his was the only thing he let himself dwell on. So it was easy just to release the stress of planning the next steps against Moriarty and anxiety of securing his brother's life. He couldn't stay away for long, but he could take a small break.

She didn't speak either, and he often wondered what was going on in her mind. He stole glances every once and a while. Proper and put together as the day he met her in the cloudy seaside afternoon, but his mind couldn't help but bring up images of her fairly less proper and put together from their experience last time. He covered that up with a quiet clearing of his throat and averting his eyes again. No need getting distracted.

Their quiet walk didn't last too long, and soon she flew them both back to London. To his study, as if they'd never left in the first place. She shifted a bit closer, tilting her head to catch his lips in a quick good-bye kiss. When blue eyes opened and the kiss broke, she spoke. "Thank you for you company today, I always enjoy it. I'll see you again next time."

Mycroft's free hand reached to just carefully tuck a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, interrupted by the breeze during their walk. His lips turned in a small smile. "Same time next month. Goodbye Naomi."

Naomi smiled in return and a moment later she was gone. Disappeared as if she'd never been there. Mycroft had an empty hand, and he wasn't sure what to do with it. So he fidgeted slightly and unconsciously. It took longer than he'd admit to notice that, and with a heavy sigh, he moved back to his desk. He breathed in and released a deep sigh as he sat back down. "Back to work."


	20. 15 February 2012

_15 February 2012, Nine PM_

Sherlock was dead. At least to everyone else. And Mycroft had been tracking his movements across the globe as carefully and efficiently as possible the last three months. Sherlock would be fine, but Mycroft still worried. Caring wasn't an advantage, but it _was_ inevitable.

So while Mycroft was busy worrying about Sherlock, he hadn't considered something was coming for him.

It wasn't often Mycroft was in a relatively public place, and certainly not in the coldness that was February in London. But he'd promised his parents his presence while they saw the New York Philharmonic perform at the Barbican in the late evening of 15th February. Even they knew very little about what their youngest son was going through, their parents were beyond worried about Sherlock. So it was the least he could do. Caring for his parents was also inevitable at this point.

So he'd dressed in a fitted grey three piece suit - with a maroon tie, and his usual navy winter coat - and accompanied his parents to the theatre. In all honesty, he much preferred the concerts over the musicals or operas. The music made sense, there wasn't a series of annoying melodies that would get stuck in one's head for days on end. It was enjoyable. Besides, one could think with the wordless music of an orchestra. So he put up little fuss. Apparently one does grow out of a difficult childhood. Sort of.

At the interval, standing among the people milling about the lobby area, he'd gotten a phone call. Due to the noise, he took it out to the Lakeside Terrace, a small brick terrace that had chairs and tables by a series of deep ponds and fountains. It wasn't a particularly long phone call, answering a couple questions for the prime minister. And a few minutes later, he'd slipped the device back into his pocket. It was quiet out here due to the colder weather, everyone else was milling about the lobby.

His thoughts were drifting as he slowly walked from the building itself out towards the 'lakes' that gave the patio it's name. His gloved hands were tucked in the pockets of his coat and he came to a stop at the edge of the water.

The city lights of London illuminated the cloudy sky, the noises of traffic were faint, but it was otherwise a very peaceful evening.

Mycroft didn't hear the gunshot that echoed between the buildings. He didn't hear the gasp and screams of the people that _did_ hear it from inside the buildings or out on the street. What he did hear was his own quiet whimper as a sniper rifle bullet pierced his chest.

* * *

Naomi was wings deep in paperwork. And it was annoying. She was still working on picking up the pieces and making a bid for control of Heaven after Raphael's death. It wasn't an instantaneous process, of course. Red tape and all that. Heaven wasn't falling apart just yet, she had her pawns in place. And she would take over a more public leadership role soon. But there were preparations and things to do before then.

Ion interrupted her and she fixed him with a look that usually was good for intimidating her personal assistant. He bowed his head and clasped fidgety hands in front of him. "Naomi, we have a situation with the mission to-"

Naomi was halfway through listening to the other angel speak when she felt it. A sudden and instinctual cry of pain from Earth. _Her_ human, the one she'd marked to keep track of and had claimed as hers, was hurting. Human pain was fleeting and common, but this pain transmitted as something much worse...

Mycroft Holmes was going to die.

Her face betrayed none of this, for no one else knew about her time on Earth. No one aside from Raphael, but that secret had died with him. She couldn't let anyone know. Or more accurately, couldn't let anyone _remember_. Her human was still a secret.

"Ion, shut up, and take care of it yourself. You are intelligent enough to do that, I've ensured it. I'll be back." She said, snapping her dark grey wings and vanishing from the chair.

She landed in the place she'd felt Mycroft cry out, eyes already searching the area and her voice calling out his name….until she found the body in the freezing water.

* * *

Mycroft was dying and dying very quickly. The bullet had pierced his heart and the impact had pushed him towards the lake.

The bullet had hurt like hell. The small bit of metal pushed through him, cutting through vulnerable tissue. Valuable tissue. For his heart, his actual beating heart, was now broken. A hole ripped through him and out the back.

His mind had done the calculations already as his body lost consciousness. He had less than a minute to live and less than three seconds of consciousness. His heart would stop, he'd bleed out, and his brain would follow soon after. And he had nothing to do but close his eyes and accept that fact.

It wasn't a particularly welcome fact. He'd prepared for it, obviously, but he wasn't ready to be gone yet. He had work to do, parents to take care of, Sherlock to watch over, never mind his angel visitor. Who knows, maybe he'd get to come back from the dead again.

He didn't count on it.

But then he wasn't dead. He was soaking wet in the cold air of February, but rather than the expected chill he felt nothing but warmth. He coughed and blinked his eyes open to try and engage his too slow brain.

The next thing he noticed was his position, sort of sprawled half on the ground. His torso was cradled in someone's lap. He blinked to focus in on auburn hair and aesthetically pleasing blue eyes staring back at him.

 _"_ You're all right." Naomi said, with a surprisingly gentle tone.

It was then he noticed that her arms were also cradling his body, holding him close to her upper half. Mycroft wasn't quite sure what had happened, but he could put the pieces together, from the position they were in and the fact that there were a half a dozen people awkwardly milling about. He heard her say something about going back inside, that she'd take care of everything. For some reason that didn't matter terribly to him. He closed his eyes again, unconsciously fisting his fingers into her damp jacket, and took a deep shaky breath in.

He'd nearly died. And without Naomi he would have. The pain was still a very vivid memory, the fear, the helplessness. It was enough to shake anyone, no matter how logical.

It took a minute or so for the people to move back inside and Naomi to turn her attention back to him. Delicate fingers had slipped into his hair before he opened his eyes. She was still looking him over, and her voice was steady. "The bullet pierced your heart, I arrived as soon as your cry came through." She said, carding fingers through his damp hair. "I will be hunting down the sniper myself."

Mycroft's brow furrowed and he didn't move. "I need him in custody, not dead. We need to know who…who wanted to kill me."

"I can also get you that information." Naomi said casually, but the seriousness of her words came through. "And then I'll destroy them as painfully as possible. Your justice system is flawed and imperfect. I am not about to let this go unpunished."

Mycroft let out a mirthless but grateful huff, closing his eyes one more time as he gathered himself together. "No more than they deserve, I'm sure. Now, if you don't mind, I should stand up."

"Of course." Naomi replied impassively, but there was a small smile on her face.

With her help, Mycroft got back on his feet, picking himself up off of the cold brick. He was still entirely wet. His wool suit was completely ruined at this point and he crinkled his nose in distaste. His hands smoothed down the fabric as he spoke. "Perhaps we can…"

She read his mind, it seemed, and took his hand in hers. "Let's take you home."


	21. 15 February 2012

_15 February 2012, shortly thereafter_

Naomi had left immediately after dropping Mycroft off in his bedroom, gone in a flutter of feathers. His first order of business was to call his parents. Considering he'd wandered away and abandoned them at the concert. He spoke with his mother, who was just sitting down again, and informed her he'd gotten called away on a matter of national security. A polite apology, a promise of another event, and he hung up.

He put the phone down and stripped off his wet clothes to shower right away. But as he was toweling off, he paused in front of the mirror. His brow furrowed and he reached a hand to touch the smooth skin above his sternum. No trace of injury, scar, or anything to indicate what had happened. His heartbeat was steady. His body was whole. He'd move on.

By the time he'd showered, changed into his version of dressed down, and gone downstairs to make himself tea, Naomi had returned.

She landed in the kitchen with clasped hands and an indifferent expression. "I have eliminated both the sniper, and the leaders of the terrorist group that hired him."

Mycroft glanced up at her and returned his eyes to the tea. "Thank you. I assume you have the information that they used to find me."

"On your desk, everything else was destroyed, and we can discuss it together as well." Naomi said. He'd later find she'd destroyed their entire base of operations in what would be described as a gas leak explosion on the news, fourteen people dead. He'd be quite impressed.

"Sounds fair." Mycroft replied, turning to offer her a cup of tea. "I'd like to thank you, again, for saving my life."

"No trouble." Naomi said as she took the tea cup from him. "I do prefer you alive, and there's work to be done yet."

"Of course." He said with a slight bow of his head. His fingers were curled around the delicate tea cup and his thoughts drifted slightly. "Granted, you still haven't told me what that is."

"And how do you know you are not doing it already?" Naomi questioned.

He eyed her. "Fair." He admitted. "Anyways, I know I shouldn't expect any answers from you unless you want to give them up."

"You have learned much." Naomi quipped, it must have been a joke, because she smiled.

Mycroft let out a half laugh, amused at her expression more than anything. "Yes, how to lose at chess being the primary lesson. How to take a walk anywhere in the world as well. And that being fatally wounded doesn't necessarily mean death. Just pain, and a very confused return to the realm of consciousness."

"Well, I'm happy to pull you back to the realm of consciousness anytime." Naomi's blue eyes met his again as she walked over, setting the half-empty cup on the counter beside him. She was close enough to touch. "As well as beat you at chess."

"Yes, your skill and intelligence in both areas are a bit…distracting…" The eye contact was enough, and Mycroft moved in with confidence and determination. Tea cup abandoned, he put his hands around her head and kissed her deeply, passionately even. Maybe he should be surprised, but he wasn't. He felt her press herself to his body and he surrendered completely to the more instinctual urge of human nature. Moments later she flew them up to the bedroom. But he didn't really notice until she'd pulled away to start on their clothes.

It was hurried, not the usual steady calm way they'd gone about it the two times previously. He'd been within seconds of death today, it was only expected, wasn't it? Besides, he didn't need justification for this activity with her. Not at all.

He reached a hand to loosen her perfectly neat bun and let the auburn waves fell over her bare shoulders. His hands began exploring her form as he guided her towards the bed. Eyes intent and focused. Clothes gone, he pressed her back into the bed and kissed her soundly.

It was gratitude, it was curiosity explored, it was being _alive._

It was also fervent, and _needy,_ displaying a passion he surprised himself with as he made love with his angel. That thought would also surprise him when he wasn't busy with other things...

Eventually, he flopped on his back on the bed, his intact chest was moving up and down with deep breaths and his eyes closed. Completely exhausted but immensely satisfied. It was several minutes before his brain was back in reality and his heart rate slowed. He turned his face towards her.

Naomi was still next to him, her forehead resting on his shoulder. Her auburn hair was fanned around her face and her eyes were closed. She looked peaceful. Carefully, he reached his hand to move a piece of hair out of her face. "Thank you." His words mean more than the sex, more than the rescue, encompassing their entire friendship.

Her eyes opened, a sparkly blue in the dim light of the room. Her lips curled into a smile. "You're welcome."

"Will you be going soon?" He asked.

Naomi paused in a moment's thought, searching through the calendar of things that needed doing. "I don't have to. My personal assistant has taken care of the pressing issue at hand. I believe I can afford to lose a few hours."

"Stay with me." Mycroft asked plainly and unashamed. "At least until I fall asleep."

Her expression was mostly intrigued, but a slow smile grew on her face. "As you wish." There was a beat before she spoke again, shifting in the bed with opening of her arms. "Come here."

Mycroft moved with her. Rather than laying beside her, he was now resting in her embrace, in the comfort and safety of her wings. As poetic as it was, it must also be the truth. His head was tucked next to hers, and he closed his eyes. Another breathy 'thank you' on his lips.

Naomi's voice was soft, her American accent distinct in the darkness as the lights in the room went out. Supernaturally so, but he didn't care. Her fingers carded gently through his hair. "You will always be safe with me, Mycroft. Rest peacefully." And then she spoke something in Enochian, words he didn't know. He was too tired to ask about it. Maybe later.

Three things drifted in his mind as he fell into a world of pleasant dreams. One, he was safe, alive and whole, miraculously so. Two, he was also content, happy with where he was right now, happy with the choices he'd made.

And three…the world didn't seem so lonely anymore.


	22. 16 February 2012

_16 February 2012, Time Irrelevant_

Naomi, angel of the Lord, spent the night with Mycroft in his bed. He wouldn't see her wings wrapping around to cushion them in a cocoon of strength and power, he wouldn't know she studied his relaxed face, he didn't know her thoughts drifted to her work but back to him. He just slept in her arms.

He was _so_ human, beneath the cold impassiveness she admired so much. And she watched him sleep with a fascination she rarely showed anywhere else. It came with the intrigue and appreciation of a rare individual. Hardly the first time she'd ventured into this. But those were stories for another day.

It was her secret. Her reward. Her escape.

In the wee hours of the morning before he woke, Naomi left. And returned to Heaven looking just as prime and proper as always. She landed in her office, immediately switching the colors to a soft yellow gold and white.

The information still sat there, waiting for her to finish. Her little interlude that night had been a good break, but it was time to get back to work. And with a new determination, she began again.

She was so close, to moving to pull Castiel out of Purgatory, to use him to best her opponents. He was God's chosen after all. Despite the fact he was more than a troublemaker, hopefully her work would be worthwhile.

It was only a few minutes later when Ion and Jophiel walked through the doors and stopped in the middle behind her visitor chairs. She sat up straight in the chair and eyed them both. "Can I help you? I thought we'd implemented the scheduling of appointments centuries ago…" She flashed an overly false smile to add to the snark. "It appears I was wrong."

"You disappeared. We couldn't find you." Ion started.

"Must I remind you, it is none of your business where I go and what I do." Naomi said calmly.

"But not in the middle of your current project. You went to Earth." Jophiel protested. "We demand to know what's going on."

Naomi simply gave him an empty look, as if challenging the angel in the short male vessel to press further.

It was Ion who spoke next. "We followed you."

"There was a human male. And it wasn't a business call. What do you want with him?" Jophiel finished.

Naomi cooled even more, pushing her chair away from the desk and standing up. "I said that was none of your business. Must I remind you your place?"

"What are you doing? What's the purpose of that?"

Naomi stepped around the desk, arms crossed. "I _said_ , you have your place. Both of you. I don't appreciate the interrogation."

Jophiel stepped forward, summoning an angel blade. He held it low in his hand. "You're doing something to us. Ion told me. You're in our heads."

"For the good of Heaven." Naomi countered, giving Ion a very dark look. "For protecting all of us. There is no alternative."

"What makes you think you can just wander around the earth, fraternizing with _humans,_ considering what you're doing to us." Jophiel continued, stepping forward. "What are you doing to everyone? Who gave you the right to this?"

Naomi felt threatened. She knew him, she knew what he was like, she knew exactly how many deeds he'd done for her. And how difficult Jophiel's mind had been to bring around to full servitude. He resisted. As few rare ones do. Like Castiel, Anna, Balthazar. And it appeared that little flaw in his programming was showing up again. He'd used up his chances already. He had to go, before his actions hurt any other angel, or threatened the secret little escape she set up for herself.

She spoke to Ion, but kept her eyes on Jophiel. "Ion, please kill him."

Ion looked like he was about to resist, but she had trained her personal assistant well. He knew what to do. His angel blade made an appearance and he'd stabbed it in the other angel's chest without a missed beat. The look on Jophiel's face was fearful and shocked, but soon the bright glow that accompanied the destruction of the eternal power of an angel grew and disappeared. The body dropped to the ground. Ion was left holding a bloody blade and looking quite shocked at what he just did.

Naomi stepped closer, looking down at the body with a sorrowed look. She didn't like killing other angels. She didn't enjoy that, she wasn't a sadist. She wanted peace and order whatever it took. And that could not be accomplished when there were those that strayed from the flock.

"I am sorry, Ion. Sorry you were a part of this." Her blue eyes raised and she connected with his mind. "You are going to forget this happened, Ion, you do not know of my human. Now leave me."

Ion's expression sort of glazed over and he put the cleaned angel blade away. Without another word he walked out of her office. He'd forget what just happened, completely oblivious to the fact that they went to confront her in the first place.

Naomi looked at the body one more time. Her expression compassionate, sorrowed even. "It was necessary, and I am sorry." She said, as if Jophiel were still there. A confession almost. "If you were in my position, you would understand."

She changed the colors again, dark blues and grey, as she deatomized the body and cleaned up the mess. A twitch of her hand sent her small Newton's Cradle into motion, the silver balls clicking against each other in a pleasant metronomic beat. And she walked back around to sit in her chair. Her hands folded on her desk and her gaze off at the door in a moment of thought.

So much responsibility. Heaven only ran to it's highest potential if everyone, if all the angels, worked together. Angelic history gave them more than enough examples of what happened when emotions and terrible memories were allowed to run rampant. She had control, and Heaven was in order. Whatever she had to do was justified. Any means to an end.

There were a couple more pieces of the puzzle. A couple more chess pieces to resurrect and she'd make sure everything was perfect when those fell into place. She was _so_ close to making things right. To correcting the mistakes of the dead archangels. To ruling. Things would be quiet, ordered, and peaceful under her complete guidance.

Heaven would be balanced.


	23. 7 November 2012

_7 November 2012_

Naomi landed her usual time many months later. As always, their interactions were kept to the usual chess or travel, with an added bonus of rare times of intimate activity. Month after month nothing changed. There was a routine and they were very good at routines. It was comforting and predictable in the midst of chaos.

This time, Naomi was 'on call' as they say, as her gathering of angels worked to free Castiel from Purgatory. She'd lost two angels in the last week to the battle, and she mourned them. But she was also confident that they would succeed. And if Castiel would be the key player in bringing balance to Heaven by helping her win her bid for leadership. The lives lost were justified.

But she still had time for her one and only friend. A weakness she acknowledged and therefore hid from anyone else. As she vied for completely control of Heaven, she needed to be sure there were no chinks in the armor, nothing to be exploited. So, of course, her friend was expendable. As much as she enjoyed their conversations and his continued life. As much as it would hurt her. She could and would sacrificed Mycroft Holmes to achieve her goal.

He was only human, after all.

But then she contemplated the lengths she had gone and would go for him. The emotions she stripped away from other angels were still intact within her. Emotions that ran deep and were more vast than any human could possibly understand. These feelings could not be fully voiced in human tongue.

The answer was simple and obvious. She would have both, there was no other way. She could lead Heaven, but she would also keep _her_ human safe and intact.

That thought was the one that stuck when she landed in the usual sitting room and offered him an almost affectionate smile. Her hand went to her bun and she released her auburn hair. "Hello Mycroft."

He himself sat up in his chair, wearing his usual impeccable three piece suit, today in grey. There was just the smallest smile of a greeting as she sat down. "Naomi." He said. "I thought chess again today."

"Acceptable."

"And how is your current endeavor going?" Mycroft asked as he brought their chess board over and quickly rearranged the pieces.

"It's going well, in fact, I believe we're nearly there." Naomi replied elusively. She'd not told Mycroft anything about where Castiel was, only that she had to get an angel out of a very dangerous place. She couldn't chance that being exposed. "It's the turning point in my bid for leadership."

"I wish that well, of course." Mycroft said with a bow of his head and a first turn on the chess board. "It's a colossal task, one that I'm sure you're up for."

"I should be. I crave order in Heaven, and it has been much less order and more unbalance than acceptable these last few years." She replied, taking her turn as well.

"Ghastly." Mycroft replied, his expression relaxed but there was a certain understanding twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Yes, I believe that's a fitting word." She replied with a small smile of her own. The game was under way and she'd already snagged two of his pawns. Not unusual. "Things are promising, but it's not going to be easy." She paused again, studying his face. "Naturally I'll keep you away from it, safe in the distance, I promise."

He glanced up from the board to meet her eyes. "Yes, of course." Pause. "Thank you."

"The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Mycroft."

"I know. Your actions have demonstrated that, I can only take you at your word."

"Good." Naomi said next, moving on from the seemingly sentimental subject. "And how is Sherlock, has he been in contact?" She knew the answer, of course. Sherlock was currently working his way through Moriarty's criminal network in South America.

"Last week, yes. He's still working. I estimate about a year at this point."

"I've got ears on him." She said. "I've got plenty of brothers myself, I understand."

"Yes, but unlike you, I only have the one." Mycroft said impassively.

There was more to that story, but Naomi didn't push 'the other one', she continued. "Which means he's not expendable nor an acceptable loss, and I know this. I'll keep him safe."

"Thank you." Mycroft said, bowing his head slightly. "It's not something I will admit as the usual, but being that part of…me has been the foundation of this relationship, it's easy for me…now."

"I know." Naomi's expression was soft. "It's a very…attractive quality. The love you have for your brother, I admire it."

Mycroft blinked a couple times as his brain processed that. He cleared his throat, as if unsure what to say. "Thank you."

Again she was drawn to him and the _humanness_ underneath the impassive mask. She smiled slightly. "I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not…I'm not uncomfortable. I'm simply unused to compliments of that nature."

"Neither am I, but you've been appreciative of me. I think it's fitting I do the same. More than I have been."

He huffed in amusement. "I think your usual is more than enough, however… I won't say no to a compliment."

Naomi leaned forward to take her turn. She really couldn't help the smile on her face and she decided to try something new. "Your eyes are mesmerizing, the blue that darkens and lightens in different lights. I can't replicate it, I've tried. And I love the wrinkles around your eyes when you smile, it shows your years of wisdom and experience. Your face is aesthetically pleasing, as is the rest of you, even if you do not think the same. I am willingly drawn to all of you, mind, body, soul. You are beautiful."

Mycroft Holmes blinked again during a too long pause to process her words. And like the unsurpassable genius he was, he stammered like an idiot in an effort to come up with a proper response to what she said. His ears had tinged just a bit red in a blush.

Naomi was almost caught of guard, but he pushed himself out of his chair and caught her in a fervent kiss over the chess board. Her hands reached around his head to steady him, and she did something very unique that time. She brushed his mind with a thousand pleasant memories. Of Heaven as it had been before the Fall, of the creation of mountains, of a billion spinning stars in the dark sky, of a job well done, of soft indescribable angel wings….and more.

The chess game had been forgotten and she flew them from the chairs to the couch where she could properly kiss him back without knocking pieces over. And when she pulled away, he drew in a deep ragged breath. She breathed with him and matched his heartbeat, not because she needed to but because it was an invigorating human sensation.

The rest of the time together was spent in compliments and sharing of memories, in addition to physical intimacy. Mycroft Holmes' name was written in her very being now, she wouldn't give him up.

And in the stillness of the dim lights in his room, she said the Enochian words again. Words he didn't understand. Words she didn't think he was ready for. Because she wasn't ready for him to know everything about her. The darkness inside her was meant for her only.

When Naomi was with Mycroft, she could forget the killing and the torture and years of sensitive work. She could just… _be._


	24. 7 May 2013

_7 May 2013_

Mycroft Holmes was many things. Superiority intelligent. Tough but concerned older brother. Secret government official. The Iceman.

One thing he did not expect to be was _happy_. And not just in the content stagnant way that was expected, but in the naturally quiet joy that accompanied a fulfilling life of both work and a singular companion.

His arrangement with Naomi was perfect for him. He abstained, and kept himself focused on work and Sherlock and ensuring the peace and safety of the British Nation…aside from his couple hours of private time with her on that one day. He always looked forward to her visits, immensely so, and sometimes he'd catch himself smiling. He'd never deduced that _this_ would have happened, and probably would have laughed at anyone who suggested it after the first time they'd met in that hospital room. Completely unpredictable.

Life was funny that way, as much as unpredictability annoyed him.

What he didn't know that things were about to change completely. And his emotions would take an irreversible hit when the source of his happiness was violently ripped away.

But he wasn't psychic, he didn't know. And their date today would be just another day on his calendar. She landed at the scheduled time and whisked them both away to Glacier Point in Yosemite, California. It was spring, but up on the mountain in the morning it was fairly cold. Mycroft adjusted his scarf and coat as they started walking. "You seem troubled today." He commented. She was still very difficult to deduce, save what she let him see, but after all these years, he was getting better at reading her. "Is everything all right?"

"There is…tension. Struggles in Heaven. Things have not gone the way I've planned, as you know." Naomi started. She paused. Her hands twitched at her sides and her eyes were on the deep valley that stretched below them. "But it's getting worse. There is another angel, more dangerous than most anticipate. I fear something might be coming."

"I have confidence you'll be successful." He said, keeping his eyes on her as he put on his leather gloves.

"I don't know what to do." She said. "There's too much at stake. The other don't know," pause, "but I am scared. Mycroft, I am absolutely terrified he's going to do something. I can almost feel it."

"Is there anything else you can do? Preparations to make?" He said, reaching across the short distance between them to take her hand, holding it tightly. "I'm here, whatever happens."

"I know. Thank you."

Mycroft felt a twinge in his chest and in a tender private moment, brought her hand up to kiss the back. Her concerned expression shifted to one a bit more curiously affectionate. He lowered their hands again and spoke. "You are a skilled leader, Naomi. I'm confident you'll do what has to be done for the best intentions of Heaven."

Naomi's bright blue eyes turned away from him again as she slowed them at the edge of the walkway. The deep valley was below them; vast waterfalls looked like mere trickles, giant evergreens like green brushes, buildings and cars like toys. She was quiet, thoughtful, but he didn't pressure her to speak. They had all the time in the world.

And up on top of the mountain, stood two people who were very much alike in the way they worked and existed. They watched the world turn, doing their best to maintain order and balance. Working hard to maintain power and control. Intelligent enough to break into uncharted territory and do what others would not. They were kindred spirits. Mycroft had come to believe so at least, if that sentimental notion was acceptable.

He was beginning to think it was.

After a quiet few minutes, Naomi spoke again. "I appreciate you, Mycroft. Your opinion is very important to me. A pity you were not an angel, I could use an ally like you at the moment."

Mycroft chuckled at that thought, but kept any fantastical theorizations out of his mind. "And yet, human I remain. You'll succeed on your own. I simply hope it goes smoothly."

"As do I." She replied distantly.

"Sherlock's doing well." Mycroft said to change the subject. "Nearing the end of his time abroad. I'd like to thank you again for stepping in for him last month."

"It was nothing." Naomi said. "That particular gang was being led by a demon, so it was my speciality anyways."

"Naturally. And you're quite good, I've witnessed it myself. Though thankfully not very often. I'd like to keep my demon experiences to a bare minimum."

Naomi let out an amused sound. "I'll do my best, darling."

Mycroft blinked again, not computing what she'd just said. He turned to study her face. "I'm sorry?"

"Sorry for what?" Naomi asked as she turned to meet his eyes. Understanding was quick and she smiled. "My apologies, it's a term of endearment and it felt natural to use at that time. I can refrain from it in the future if you wish."

"No, no, don't worry about it." Mycroft brushed it away once he'd recovered. However, his ears were red and it wasn't just the cool weather. "I…didn't mind."

"Good. If you don't, I'll add it into our usual conversation."

Mycroft found himself doing some introspection, and he found he really didn't mind a simple term of endearment. After all they were for all means, and for lack of another word to describe it, _lovers_. He had to do some thinking when he could set aside time to mull it over.

They spent near an hour walking down the short path and studying the mountains and valley around them. There was a quiet peace there, as if this part of creation was an untouched sanctuary. Or perhaps it was merely their companionship. Mycroft didn't think too hard to try and figure that out.

The hours flew by after they returned to his estate for dinner and wine. Later she'd follow him to bed and he would fall asleep in her arms. When morning dawned, he'd be alone again, with nothing but her scent on the pillow and an unspoken promise to return. But he'd be fulfilled and satisfied, rejuvenated to face another month.

Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't know what that time would bring.


	25. 21 May 2013

_21 May 2013_

Naomi, angel of the Lord, was dying. Her drill had been stabbed into her head by an enemy she hadn't been able to predict or stop. The piece of Heaven was lodged into her grace. Death would meet her in the end.

It was her own fault. She didn't secure Metatron, she left Heaven to speak to Dean and Castiel personally. She'd miscalculated thinking she could stop Castiel from helping Metatron and bring him into the fold again. Her emotions had taken control in the tidal wave of guilt. Now she was just the first casualty in Metatron's bid for ultimate God-power. If Naomi had stopped this…well, the if's didn't matter now. Because she hadn't stopped it. She didn't win. She was a _failure_.

She was shattered like pieces of stained glass.

She'd never been in that much pain or had this much fear in her entire existence. Both feelings rooted themselves deep within her. The wound itself burned as if consumed by a cold fire, the drill hacking through her warm soft energy with a scalpel. The helplessness of being unable to move was indescribable. After all the angels she'd tormented with the device, perhaps it was 'just desserts'. She deserved this.

Her heart ached though, and she was immediately aware that heartbreak and regret were the last feelings she'd ever experience. Not just for her Heaven, not just for the mission she'd never had the chance to fulfill, but also for her human friend she was leaving alone.

Her _best_ friend. Her lover. Someone who understood her, despite having only bits and pieces of the bigger picture. He'd die, because she failed the mission. The one mission to protect all of God's creation.

Naomi, the broken angel, would have been crying if she could. She would have been bowed on the floor in repentance, sobbing as if tears could fix the wrongs in the universe. Emotions were running rampant even as she was immobile. But those too would be lost like the morning dew.

She was fading now…the drill was nothing but a soft buzz that echoed through her grace. It was distant, thankfully. No more pain, only regret.

How can one live a million lifetimes and still feel regret?

Fading still…and then an all encompassing white light enveloped her like a blanket. Death was not as cold as she imagined it to be. It was warm and peaceful…


	26. 22 May 2013

_22 May 2013_

A ringing phone wasn't usually good news when it came in the early hour of the morning. Mycroft didn't like it, but rolled over in bed to grab the emergency-only device from his bedside table. He brushed sleep out of his eyes, cleared his throat, and answered, just as the sun was rising over London.

Global meteor shower. That's what they called it. The BBC News anchor didn't look convinced either, but there was no other logical explanation for it. At least in the minds of the ignorant public. Glowing lights falling from the sky and disappearing? Mycroft knew better. A text from Anthea informed him that four bodies without identification had been found in the greater London area alone, and over a dozen unknown individuals had been admitted into hospitals around the country. Again, no identification.

Putting the pieces together was rather simple from that point, especially for Mycroft Holmes. Something had happened in Heaven. Those lights were angels falling to Earth. Those bodies were _dead_ angels who'd fallen from Heaven not of their own intentions.

He'd spent the first ten minutes of his day praying for Naomi, in between pacing as the coffee percolated, something he'd do throughout the day as well. He spent the next hour going over the data in his home office. And it wouldn't be until later after lunch that his personal assistant would meet him in his work office.

"Naomi's not answering." Mycroft said bluntly, forgoing a greeting and not looking up from the laptop when Anthea stepped into the room.

She was similarly engaged on her phone, her slim fingers tapping over the keys. "Perhaps she's busy with whatever happened to the angels?"

"Or she's dead. I want every record of every Jane Doe they've found as soon as possible."

"Already done sir, I've got Matthews working on it, she'll be sending them along."

"Internationally-"

"Done, I spoke with most of our contacts and ambassadors already, the rest will be contacted soon. Files on any expired Jane Doe found to have died after the lights first started will be sent immediately to you." Anthea put down her phone and closed the distance to sit in the chair across from his desk. "I promise. We'll find her."

Mycroft looked up from the email and leaned back in his seat. Only the twitch of his hands betrayed his current state. He clasped them over his abdomen to avoid the visible show of anxiety. "I want this search to continue until we've exhausted every possible avenue."

"I understand." Anthea said with just the smallest reassuring smile. "It is likely she survived, considering the statistics thus far."

Mycroft felt the need to speak his thoughts aloud. To speak them so he knew he wasn't losing his mind with _sentiment_. Anthea was his most trusted employee and he'd talked through many a problem with her. He cleared his throat. "It is more likely she was killed prior to the fall. She was concerned when last we spoke, thought something was coming. This must have been it, and if she was in the way of it happening…"

"I don't know her as well as you do…but I believe she's resourceful as you are. If there was a way out of this, she would have found it." Anthea said logically, but added, "I think you shouldn't give up hope."

Mycroft scoffed. "Hope?"

"Yes, hope. She may very well be alive. It is all right to hope that's the case."

"But it's better to be logical." Mycroft countered and continued on. "I'm giving this until the day we usually meet, the seventh of June. After that's done, we'll call off the search."

Anthea nodded and uncrossed her legs to stand up. One wasn't idle long when one worked for Mycroft Holmes. "Seems appropriate. It gives us little over two weeks. Let's find your angel."

* * *

Two weeks passed and there was nothing. No sign of Naomi. No news. No corpse to be identified. No flutter of feathers indicating her return. The two angels Mycroft managed to track down had no knowledge of her, let alone if she survived. There was only dead end after dead end.

The only thing he had learned is that the angels had been stripped of their wings, their natural ability to teleport. So it was possible she was stranded somewhere with no way to get to him. But surely she would have contacted him in some way?

His thoughts had been racing since that day, constantly trying to sort out the details. The what-ifs. The possibilities. Balance of probability suggested she was dead. Her position in Heaven coupled with her concern prior... she would have been eliminated for the angels to fall. Naomi, _his_ angel, was most likely dead. Mycroft had accepted that as the most likely truth. At least the logical part of him did.

The sentimental part of him had hope. That part of him wanted to have her by his side again, to see her sitting in the chair across with an enigmatic smile on her face, to lose another game of chess. He wanted to hold her, to be held. But that hope was slipping away out of his grasp. Hope was foolish. Hope was illogical. The pain he was experiencing was not made better by that hope.

Two weeks. And Mycroft had gone through more heartbreaking emotions during that time than he ever would admit. More than he ever thought he'd experience.

Hearts always break. He just thought he had more time.


	27. 8 June 2013

_8 June 2013_

The search had been officially called off. Naomi was dead.

Mycroft had cancelled and reschedules his appointments, the British Government and world affairs would just wait for one day…. while he grieved.

One day, that's all he would need. One day to mourn the loss of his angel lover, one day to let himself indulge in the sentiment that was her presence in his life, nine years of it. Death was expected for humans. He knew this. It was a logical part of life. Everything dies. But the loss of an angel seemed to be worse. An angel was a timeless being, one that should have existed long after his body had decayed into dust.

Naomi had been more than just a puzzle, or an intriguing visitor. She'd been someone who had seen him, understood him, and could keep up with his intellect. Most of all, accepted him as he was and challenged him.

And now she was gone.

He slept in, milled about the house, drank brandy, and studiously ignored the chess set and their usual tea tray, anything that reminded him of their time together. Just objects, it was illogical, but he couldn't bring himself to move past it. Just one day of sentiment.

It was almost half five, and his housekeeper was in the kitchen fixing dinner for him. She's shown up an hour ago, and he suspected that his PA had forgotten to call her off on purpose. Still, an actual meal instead of leftovers was appreciated, so he hadn't dismissed her.

In a simple button-up shirt and trousers, very dressed down as opposed to his usual, he was up in his study. He was going through just the bare minimum to prepare for work tomorrow when he heard a knock on the door. He cleared his throat once before speaking, lowering the half empty brandy glass back to the desk. "Yes? Come in."

Cathy, the newer housekeeper - a salt and peppered thin woman in her fifties - opened the door and stuck her head in. "Mr Holmes, I am sorry for the interruption. There's a woman downstairs. I wasn't sure you had any appointments today." She paused as she opened the door and stepped fully into the room, not intimidated by Mycroft's indifferent expression. "She said she was here to see you, and then nearly collapsed, I laid her down in the front sitting room. She looks…well, quite ill."

"Call the medical services, I'm not up to seeing guests today. Especially if they're about to be sick on my rug." Mycroft answered impassively, tapping his pen on his desk and completely missing the obvious for once. He'd figure out how this one had found where he lived in the first place later.

"Will you at least go down to see her, sir? She was insisting she had to speak to you. Quite strongly, considering." Cathy replied with a pinched brow that could only be concern.

Mycroft drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. "Fine. But please call to send her away as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir." Cathy said, backing up from the door as Mycroft stood.

He followed her down the hall, down the stairs, and through the main corridor to the front sitting room. It had been his usual place to sit and talk with Naomi, even now, it was one of his favorite rooms in the house. Cathy stopped just inside the door and pointed, moving so he could walk through.

The first thing he saw was messy auburn hair and a pale hand resting in it. The woman's dark clothes were dirty, wrinkled, worn; he could deduce she likely had been wearing them for more than a few days.

The second thing he noticed while slowly approaching, was that he recognized her. _Naomi._

* * *

_Warmth. Peace. Light. Floating. Falling..._

_The quiet feelings didn't last long and Naomi plummeted. She fell just like all the other angels. Wings ripped from her back, all encompassing pain that radiated from her head to her broken wings._

_She crash landed in the water, bloody and bruised. Defeated. Wrong. Terrified. In all the ways possible. Naomi was nothing but a broken angel._

_Maybe she deserved death, after all she'd done it only made sense. But she wasn't dead. There was a second chance here. A chance to right what was wrong, to fix the mission. So she fought for it. She struggled to the surface. The next two weeks would bring more struggles, a constant battle for life and direction._

_She had to get to him, she had to find Mycroft._

* * *

Her eyes were closed, her expression relaxed, but there were visible signs of injury and exhaustion. It took Mycroft longer than he would have admitted, but finally it hit him and he reacted.

He moved quicker than he had in a while, immediately kneeling down next to the sofa and gently taking her head in his hands. He rested his forehead on hers in a quiet moment of reassuring himself that she was, in fact, alive. Her vessel was breathing. He could have laughed in relief, but he just held the moment, and whispered her name. "Naomi."

He felt a hand move to his face, and she shifted in his hold. Her voice came out soft, but she was here. "Mycroft. I'm so sorry I'm late."

Mycroft let out a relieved sound, tilting his head just slightly to place a soft kiss on her lips. It was brief and he moved back so he could look at her. Blue eyes met, and his thumb caressed her cheek as he smiled softly. "You're forgiven. I'm glad you are here. I was…I was worried. Are you alright?"

Naomi offered one of her rare fond smiles back, but it was sad and exhausted. "I'm alive, and it's a very long story. I need to rest. Heal."

Mycroft didn't hesitate. It was almost instinctual as he got his feet under himself to stand and scooped her up in his arms bridal style. He couldn't particuarly recall holding her like this, but he also decided he liked it. Save for the injuries that initiated it, of course. He started for the door, intending to bring her up to his bedroom. His tone was soft when he spoke. "I've got you now."

Naomi's arm wrapped around his shoulders and she leaned her head against him, murmuring the Enochian words he'd come to recognize but not understand. " _Ol aziazor elasa_."

He was curious, of course, but didn't ask. On the way down the hall Cathy stood curiously watching. As professionally as possible with a woman in his arms, he told her to go home and that he wouldn't be taking dinner at the moment. The housekeeper spoke a quiet 'thank you' and disappeared.

Mycroft carried Naomi, this injured but _alive_ divine being. When he reached his bedroom, he laid her carefully down. Gently, he began taking off her dirty rumbled clothes, piece by piece until he wrapped her bruised body up in a soft blanket. He had many questions, and she had a story to tell. But that could wait.

Mycroft shed his clothes as well. Moments later, he crawled under the covers and pulled her to his chest. She didn't speak again and her entire body relaxed in his arms only minutes after they settled in. He was certain she was sleeping, or whatever the injured angelic equivalent was.

Sleep would find him too, but only after long hours of thinking. Hours of feeling her breathe and watching her relaxed features. Hours where two weeks of worry diminished. Hours of breathing her in and holding her close. Hours later he finally slept, his angel safely home.


	28. 9 June 2013

_9 June 2013_

Naomi and Mycroft slept together until the next morning dawned. Face to face. Touching still. But the summer sun peeking through curtains he hadn't remembered to close was enough to rouse him. At first he was slightly confused by the warm presence in his bed. But his mind was sharp, even in the morning, and eyes opened to take in the relaxed features of Naomi, angel of the Lord.

He wasn't exactly sure how to describe the emotions he was experiencing. The feeling was both relief and concern. Then there was a warm feeling he couldn't quite place. With a careful hand, he reached to brush her hair back from her face.

Naomi's eyes fluttered open. And there was just the smallest smile as she she woke. Mycroft found himself drawn to it and smiled back. "Good morning, Naomi. Are you feeling all right?"

"No. I was supposed to die." She said without preamble. "I thought I was going to. I don't even know how I survived."

Mycroft cupped her head with his hand, concern pinching his brow. "I am very glad you didn't."

"As am I." Her voice even sounded a heavy relieved. She paused a moment, closing her eyes. "I made a mistake."

"What do you mean?"

"I…. _we_ forgot the mission. To protect God's creation." Naomi said. "I failed. We lost our way and I should have guided rather than…"

"You've protected me." Mycroft argued, for he didn't like seeing the guilt that covered her expression nor the unshed tears forming in her blue eyes. Frankly, he wasn't very good with crying anyways, best to head it off at the pass.

"Yes, but you're different. You're special. I lo-" Naomi stopped suddenly, but she pressed on. "You are unique, and I've kept you safe for my own selfishness as well as your wellbeing… I have done horrible _horrible_ things. Things that seemed necessary at the time, things that were to further the safety of Heaven and the angels. I've killed, I've tortured, and I lost myself. I lost our mission. And now this, I couldn't stop the fall of the angels. So many deaths. I failed. I don't know what to do," she paused, turning her eyes away from his. "I don't know if the guilt won't just…swallow me whole."

Mycroft analyzed what she said, and tried to figure out what she didn't say. He wasn't sure how to respond. But he knew one thing for certain, her past didn't matter. "I forgive you."

Naomi's expression was a quiet shocked, if that was possible to describe. She recovered quickly. "You don't know what I've done."

"It doesn't matter." Mycroft assured her. "I trust you. I know you will not hurt me. And you are remarkable and strong enough to move on. To alter your path and right wrongs."

Her expression was sad. "I don't know if I'll get the chance." She paused, covering his hand with hers. "I think I'm going to die."

"No, you won't." Mycroft said confidently. "You're here now, you're safe. I've got you."

"I've turned off communication with other angels and hidden myself, but it's only a matter of time." Naomi said. "When Metatron cast all the angels out, it was everyone. My inner circle too. They're coming after me, bent on revenge."

"We'll hid you here then. You can heal, rest, you'll be safe. You'll have plenty of time, I promise."

Her sad expression shifted and he couldn't quite get a read on it, perhaps an intrigued affectionate. "I want to teach you Enochian."

"Oh?" He wasn't too sure about the quick subject change. But she probably had a point, she always did. "I'm sure there's time for that too. Useful, considering I don't understand the one sentence you like to say."

She smiled slightly. "How about that one first then?"

"I'm ready."

She took a breath and started speaking, much more than a simple translation. "That one phrase means that I will care for you no matter what happens, no matter what you do or how you feel. It means I will give everything I am to ensure your safety, sanity, and wellbeing, and the same of those you care about. It means self-sacrifice, and learning, and growing, and enjoying. And there is nothing you can do to prevent me from this feeling because this is how much you mean to me. I do not expect a reciprocated promise. That is not the point. Our years of interactions and the beautiful existence you are…all that has brought me to this point." She paused, just briefly. "In it's simplest, the Enochian _ol aziazor elasa_ means...I love you unconditionally and forever."

Face to face with an angel, an injured but still divine timeless being, one he thought he'd lost just the day before…Mycroft Holmes was speechless. It was rare and almost unheard of where he was concerned. But this was completely new territory. "I…I didn't realize I was…what I'm trying to say is," he exhaled slowly. "I didn't realize I was worth that level of caring to you. To anyone."

"You are." She assured him. "So much more than you can possibly fathom. I love you. Unintentionally and unexpectedly, but I have allowed myself to feel this way. I don't mind."

By this time he recovered. "I care about you, very much." Mycroft said, not quite sure he was ready to say the words back. Not yet. "And I'm honored that you would care about me in such a way."

Naomi closed the distance between them and drew him into a soft kiss. Like a promise. He reciprocated, letting the words be. He needed to do some serious thought and analysis. But that could wait. For the moment, he would just breath her in and keep her safe.


	29. 17 June 2013

_17 June 2013_

As the days passed, Naomi said those three little words to Mycroft only a few times. He loved hearing them though, and was searching through his own emotions to get a complete understanding of how he should feel. This was a completely new experience.

Naomi, angel of the Lord, was his equal or more in every way. It was because of her intelligence and experience and acceptance of him as he was, that he would be able to love her back. He could let himself get attached because it was worth it. This connection enriched his life rather than provided a distraction.

Naomi's constant presence in Mycroft's estate house was not unwelcome either. As the days went by, he realized he enjoyed coming home after work to her at home. She could be found reading, meditating, or just walking through his extensive gardens. There were soft sad smiles, thoughtful expressions, and a peace that seemed to be slowly taking her over. Naomi seemed to be on her way towards healing.

There had been other preparations and adjustments. In between a shared bed and morning tea, Mycroft and Naomi fell into a routine. Anthea had taken the liberty of gathering a selection of clothes for Mycroft's new long term guest. She'd also seen to their peace and security.

Unfortunately, Naomi had been right about the danger coming after her. And the angels that had been in her inner circle were nearly unstoppable when they wanted in. Wings or not.

Little over a week after she'd moved in, Naomi was out in the gardens as the sun was setting, Mycroft was due to join her soon, just as he did every weekday evening. He'd be upstairs changing into his evening clothes, none the wiser.

Two angels walked into the house as if they owned it, angel blades already out. Cathy the housekeeper was left unconscious but uninjured in the hall. They moved silently to the gardens, towards the vulnerable angel.

"Mycroft, I-" Naomi stopped suddenly when she turned around to see the other two angels rather than her companion. Her grace was still severely damaged and the healing process was slow, so the surprise registered on her face. She took a step back as the angels in male vessels stared her down. "Amos…Kabshiel,…please I mean you no harm."

"I doubt that." Amos started, his vessel was taller than Mycroft with broad shoulders, brown eyes, and a dour expression. Kabshiel stood next to him, shorter and leaner but with a confident spark in his hazel eyes.

Naomi took a step backwards, obviously at a loss at a loss for what to do. She didn't pull out her angel blade, she didn't call out. "You do not understand, I was wrong. Please have mercy-"

Amos stepped forward again, moving quickly. A blow to Naomi's cheek pushed her to her knees and she fell with a cry. The tall angel's motions were practiced and deadly, but he didn't kill her yet. Instead he came up behind her to hold her with a blade to her neck. Amos's eyes flashed and he pressed the blade in enough to make blood glisten on her pale skin. "And when did you have mercy on us?"

"STOP!" At the back door, Mycroft Holmes stood with his hand up, authority in his voice. His dark blue eyes were fixed on the scene, and there was a tightness in his chest that had everything to do with the fact that Naomi's life was at stake.

Kabshiel eyed Mycroft but didn't move to stop him. "A human-"

"Yes, a human. Yes, I know about Naomi and I'd prefer it if you moved your blade away from her neck." Mycroft said, walking at a fast pace until the shorter angel put his hand out to stop him.

"This is not your business, human, go back inside." Kabshiel said quietly. Amos tightened his grip on Naomi, who cried out again.

Mycroft met her eyes, bright and blue and terrified. He saw the blood running down her neck, the stance of the other angel, the helplessness of the situation. His eyes didn't leave hers but he spoke to the others. "You can't. She doesn't deserve to die. She deserves a second chance."

"Working on humans now, Naomi?" Amos asked, yanking her head back hard enough to make her gasp. "That's low for even you."

"Amos, do not let your anger get the best of you." Kabshiel said calmly. "We came here for a specific reason, not for you to extract your revenge as slowly as possible."

"We're not on a timeline." Amos argued, but his attention switched from Naomi when Mycroft spoke again.

"Please." Mycroft pleaded. "She hasn't altered me, she came to me for help. She's searching for redemption. _Peace._ Killing her would be unnecessary and counterintuitive." He took a chance and stepped right in front of Naomi and Amos. "Why spill more blood when so many angels have already died, just let her be."

"And why would you beg we do that?" Amos scoffed, fiery brown eyes locked on Mycroft.

"Because I love her." Mycroft said before he thought about what he just said. It didn't matter anyways. It was the truth. Naomi was inches away from death and he couldn't lose her again. He wouldn't be able to cope. "I love her completely and totally. _Aziazor._ And I am confident she means you no harm."

Naomi's reaction was subtle, due to her precarious position. There was a sniffle and a surprised expression. But hidden in her teary blue eyes was a soft acceptance. She didn't say anything, closing her eyes and waiting for her inevitable death.

Kabshiel put his hand out, to stop any more movement from his partner. But then the hand touched Mycroft's temple. The man almost flinched, but stood his ground confidently. _Whatever was necessary._ The angel's brow furrowed as he lowered his hand. "He is not lying, Amos. He hasn't been altered either." He paused to make an authoritative decision. "Do not end her."

Reluctantly, Amos dropped Naomi. She landed on one hand with a soft cry, the other hand reaching up to touch her bloody neck. Big teary blue eyes turned upwards, as if still waiting for death. Amos stalked away from her, clearly upset but the subordinate to Kabshield. The more patient angel crouched in front of Naomi. He took her head in his hands and met her eyes. "I believe you. But know this, you have a long way to go before you'll be accepted by the scattered host. And I cannot promise another will not find and kill you."

"I know." Naomi murmured, sorrow evident in ever corner of her. "I will atone for my sins. I will do better."

"Until we meet again." Kabshiel let her go and moved away from her.

Mycroft was still right there, watching it all, waiting for his world to collapse in on itself again. His brilliant mind had done the calculations, predicted the likely outcomes. He knew he was completely outmanned and outgunned right now. The angels could do exactly what they wanted and he wouldn't be able to stop it. They could have killed Naomi and left him to grieve again. But they didn't. Instead there was mercy.

Amos and Kabshiel left without another word. There was nothing more to say, apparently, and Mycroft hoped that be the last of the angel encounters he'd have. Aside from the angel still in his gardens of course, he wanted to keep her. Her expression was a mix of several emotions he could read, and quite a few he couldn't. But he felt a gripping pull to this amazing and broken divine being.

Mycroft knelt down on the grass in front of her, his expression soft and understanding. Something he'd only do for a select few, Naomi included. He pulled her into his arms. "I love you, Naomi." He said softly, letting the words be for her alone. He loved her - this amazing and intriguing creature who'd taken the time to get to know him - with every fibre of his being, and he was determined to show her. He was determined to overwrite the sins of her past with whispered promises, passionate kisses, and gentle entwining. "Please know that."

She sniffed, fingers fisting into his shirt as she relaxed completely in his arms. Relieved, safe, and on the way towards redemption healing. Her voice was soft, but her words carried the promise of stars. "I love you too, Mycroft. Forever."


	30. 25 December 2013

_25 December 2013_

As the months passed, the problems of the fallen angels were made distant, lost to another battle that Naomi had essentially been kicked out of. No angel would have anything to do with her. After trying and nearly getting killed again for her troubles, Naomi decided retirement was the best option. There were things to do among the humans she'd immersed herself in. Perhaps not the exact type of atonement she'd wished for, but it was a relief of her burden.

Naomi Grace Holmes was brought to official legal existence in the early autumn of that year. Naomi was now Mycroft's wife. It was _entirely_ practical, after all. There'd been no wedding ceremony, just a couple of documents signed. But it had been very private and intimate despite that. Upon the new, his parents had been beyond thrilled, despite the fact they'd been kept in the dark about essentially everything concerning her.

The couple fell into an easy routine. Naomi was extremely adaptable, and Mycroft joyfully opened up his home and life to her. She was his equal and compliment. It was a different sort of experience than the years of single day interactions. Living together was an entirely new adventure progressed from the foundation they already had.

It was an adventure that they both handled in stride. Between morning tea, the precisely organized closet, and normal domestic activities, the newly-wed Holmeses _lived_ and worked together. They complimented each other in any and every way. When they didn't agree, there was a quiet discussion and an understanding compromise, then they moved on.

Naomi had moved on from angelic matters into a sort of retirement. In time she'd begin consulting with the British Government and lending subtle angelic assistance as necessary. Just like all the other fallen angels, her wings never recovered. But her grace did, even after the assassination attempt by Metatron, and some long months later she was in peck condition again.

Christmas was an entirely unnecessary and illogical sentimental holiday, according to Mycroft. But his new marriage provided a good excuse as any for Violet Holmes to coerce her son and his new wife to join them at their house for Christmas dinner.

Once they were at the house, the familial atmosphere penetrated everything. Just prior to dinner, Naomi was curled up on the couch by the fireplace with an open book on her lap and a soft smile on her face as Violet tutted off to finish in the kitchen. The smile only widened as Mycroft stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Naomi set the book aside. "I think I'll invite your mother next time Molly and I meet for tea. I enjoy her company immensely. She has a very kind heart and a sharp tongue."

"No doubt she'd enjoy that meeting." Mycroft sat down next to her and took her hand. "She does like to chatter, as does Miss Hooper."

She turned her hand to twine their fingers together. "I know. They're very human. I…enjoy that. It's a good reminder."

Mycroft leaned to press a kiss to her temple. He knew what the reminder was, of course. They'd discussed Naomi's protection plan in depth many times. Her guardianship over them. Not exactly ruling Heaven, but the mission was different this time. "I know, darling, but they don't need to. You are still on board with keeping your identity a secret, of course."

"Naturally. It's better for all and should also keep them safe." Naomi said. Her expression was thoughtful as it turned from him to the cackling fireplace. "I am also enjoying this Christmas immensely. Sentimental as it may be."

"It's been worse." He replied, his eyes ever and always on her. The word 'smitten' came unexpectedly to mind, but he dismissed it. "They like you. And if I'm being completely honest, I am relieved. I'm also not surprised."

Her elusive smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and her thumb traced a pattern over his hand. "I am relieved as well." She paused. "Molly mentioned something last time we spoke. And I had to look up the concept to understand. Soulmates. I'd like your thoughts on it in time."

Mycroft might have felt unknowingly awkward, but let that go. "It's a curious concept I've not had the time to analyze as far as _we_ are concerned."

"I think I agree with it though. After a million lifetimes of waiting for you." Naomi's bright blue eyes met his. "I'm bound to you, Mycroft Holmes. My beloved is mine, and I am his."

"I am yours. Always and forever. You did marry me, after all." Mycroft's lips pulled into a soft smile and he put his forehead to hers. It was impossible imagining life without her now. He hoped he never had to. "I'm bound to you as well. For as long as we have. I love you."

Hours of family and conversation and laughter later, they left the warmth of the Holmes house and headed for the car that would take them to their shared home just outside London. Thoughts of Christmas and family were fresh in their minds.

They walked side by side down the path. Under the umbrella, as the cold winter rain beat a musical pattern down on the expensive brolly, Mycroft closed the distance and kissed her, his free arm already snaked around her waist, hand cradling her head and fingers slipping through her soft hair. It wasn't their first kiss, and it wasn't going to be the last, but as with all of them it was a promise. A promise to respect. A promise to have and to hold. A promise to encourage and protect. And most importantly, a promise to love and forgive.

Life wasn't simple, it was complicated and unpredictable at times, unable to be deduced. True unconditional love was the same. Complicated and unexpected. A lifestyle of growth together instead of a single moment. Belonging to each other was always choice instead of an accident. Love was a choice, as unexpected and odd as the opportunity presented itself was. It was an adventure. Mycroft and Naomi Holmes didn't mind so much.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. If you've made it this far, I applaud you and there will be cookies on your left as you exit. This story is completely and totally dedicated to Angie (redonpointe) as far as inspiration, encouragement, and overall awesomeness goes. *smoooch*
> 
> Thank you all so much, hope you enjoyed the read. Do let me know by PM or review what you thought. And thanks for joining me on this ride. All the love, Gracie.


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